A Room of One's Own, by Virginia Woolf

A Room of One's Own, by Virginia Woolf

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A Room of One's Own, by Virginia Woolf

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A Room of One's Own A Society Professions for Women With Notes ans Illustrations "But, you may say, we asked you to speak about women and fiction — what has that got to do with a room of one’s own? I will try to explain. When you asked me to speak about women and fiction I sat down on the banks of a river and began to wonder what the words meant. They might mean simply a few remarks about Fanny Burney; a few more about Jane Austen; a tribute to the Brontës and a sketch of Haworth Parsonage under snow; some witticisms if possible about Miss Mitford; a respectful allusion to George Eliot; a reference to Mrs Gaskell and one would have done. But at second sight the words seemed not so simple. The title women and fiction might mean, and you may have meant it to mean, women and what they are like, or it might mean women and the fiction that they write; or it might mean women and the fiction that is written about them, or it might mean that somehow all three are inextricably mixed together and you want me to consider them in that light. But when I began to consider the subject in this last way, which seemed the most interesting, I soon saw that it had one fatal drawback. I should never be able to come to a conclusion. I should never be able to fulfil what is, I understand, the first duty of a lecturer to hand you after an hour’s discourse a nugget of pure truth to wrap up between the pages of your notebooks and keep on the mantelpiece for ever. All I could do was to offer you an opinion upon one minor point — a woman must have money and a room of her own if she is to write fiction." A Room of One's Own "Clorinda was the first to come to her senses. “It’s all our fault,” she said. “Every one of us knows how to read. But no one, save Poll, has ever taken the trouble to do it. I, for one, have taken it for granted that it was a woman’s duty to spend her youth in bearing children. I venerated my mother for bearing ten; still more my grandmother for bearing fifteen; it was, I confess, my own ambition to bear twenty. We have gone on all these ages supposing that men were equally industrious, and that their works were of equal merit. While we have borne the children, they, we supposed, have borne the books and the pictures. We have populated the world. They have civilized it. But now that we can read, what prevents us from judging the results? Before we bring another child into the world we must swear that we will find out what the world is like.” So we made ourselves into a society for asking questions. One of us was to visit a man-of-war; another was to hide herself in a scholar’s study; another was to attend a meeting of business men; while all were to read books, look at pictures, go to concerts, keep our eyes open in the streets, and ask questions perpetually. We were very young. You can judge of our simplicity when I tell you that before parting that night we agreed that the objects of life were to produce good people and good books. Our questions were to be directed to finding out how far these objects were now attained by men. We vowed solemnly that we would not bear a single child until we were satisfied." A Society

A Room of One's Own, by Virginia Woolf

• Published on: 2015-11-02
• Original language: English
• Number of items: 1
• Dimensions: 8.00" h x .41" w x 5.00" l, .40 pounds
• Binding: Paperback
• 178 pages

A Room of One's Own, by Virginia Woolf

About the Author Virginia Woolf was an influential English author best known for her involvement with the Bloomsbury Group, an association of intellectuals and artists including, John Maynard Keynes and E. M. Forster, who are credited with influencing early twentieth-century literature, criticism, and economics. Woolf became a prolific writer in between the two World Wars, and some of her most famous works, including Mrs. Dalloway and To the Lighthouse, are now among the most prominent English books of the modern period. A life-long sufferer of depression, Woolf was institutionalized numerous times before taking her own life in 1941.

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0 of 0 people found the following review helpful. WOOLF’S FAMOUS ANSWER TO THE QUESTION OF FEMALE AUTHORS By Steven H Propp Adeline Virginia Woolf (1882-1941) was an English author, essayist, publisher, and writer of short stories, regarded as one of the foremost modernist literary figures of the twentieth century. [NOTE: page numbers below refer to the 118-page Harper paperback edition.]She begins this 1929 book with the statement, “But, you say, we asked you to speak about women and fiction---what has that got to do with a room of one’s own? I will try to explain… I should never be able to fulfill what is, I understand, the first duty of a lecturer---to hand you after an hour’s discourse a nugget of pure truth to wrap up between the pages of your notebooks and keep on the mantelpiece forever. All I could do was to offer you an opinion upon one minor point---a woman must have money and a room of her own if she is to write fiction; and that, as you will see, leaves the great problem of the true nature of woman and the true nature of fiction unsolved.” (Pg. 3-4)She reveals that when she attempted to enter a library to read a manuscript of Thackeray, she was told “that ladies are only admitted to the library if accompanied by a Fellow of the College, or furnished with a letter of introduction. That a famous library has been cursed by a woman is a matter of complete indifference to a famous library. Venerable and calm, with all its treasures safe locked within its breast, it sleeps complacently and will, so far as I am concerned, so sleep for ever. Never again will I wake those echoes, never will I ask for that hospitality again, I vowed as I descended the steps in anger.” (Pg. 7-8)She recalls a professor: “Possibly when the professor insisted a little too emphatically upon the inferiority of women, he was concerned not with their inferiority, but with his own superiority. That was what he was protecting rather hot-headedly and with too much emphasis, because it was a jewel to him of the rarest price… Without self-confidence we are as babes in the cradle. And how can we generate this imponderable quality…? By thinking that other people are inferior to oneself. By feeling that one has some innate superiority---it may be wealth, or rank, a straight nose, or the portrait of a grandfather by Romney---for there is no end to the pathetic devices of the human imagination---over other people.” (Pg. 34-35) She adds, “Under the spell of that illusion… They start the day confident… they say to themselves as they go into the room, I am the superior of half the people here, and it is thus that they speak with that self-confidence, that self-assurance, which have had such profound consequences in public life and lead to such curious mores in the margin of the private mind.” (Pg. 36-37)She rhetorically asks, “it is a perennial puzzle why no woman wrote a word of that extraordinary literature when every other man, it seemed, was capable of song or sonnet. What were the conditions in which women lived, I asked myself.” (Pg. 43) She powerfully points out, “I could not help thinking, as I looked at the works of Shakespeare… that… it would have been impossible … for any woman to have written the plays of Shakespeare in the age of Shakespeare. Let me imagine… what would have happened had Shakespeare had a wonderfully gifted sister, called Judith… She was as adventurous, as imaginative, as agog to see the world as he was. But she was not sent to school. She had no chance of learning grammar and logic… She picked up a book now and then… But then her parents came in and told her to mend the stockings or mind the stew and not moon about books and papers… She had the quickest fancy, a gift like her brother’s, for the tune of words. Like him, she had a taste for the theater. She stood at the stage door; she wanted to act, she said. Men laughed in her face… She could get no training in her craft… That, more or less, is how the story would run … if a woman in Shakespeare’s day had had Shakespeare’s genius…” (Pg. 48-50)She suggests, “[In fiction] All these relationships between women… are too simple. So much has been left out, unattempted… almost without exception they are shown in their relation to men. It is strange to think that all the great women of fiction were, until Jane Austen’s day, not only seen by the other sex, but seen only in relation to the other sex. And how small a part of a woman’s life is that; and how little can a man know even of that when he observes it through the black or rosy spectacles which sex puts upon his nose.” (Pg. 86)She concludes, “it is far more important at the moment to know how much money women had and how many rooms than to theorize about their capacities… you may object that in all this I have made too much of the importance of material things. Even allowing a generous margin for symbolism, that five hundred a year stands for the power to contemplate, that a lock on the door means the power to think for oneself…” (Pg. 109-110) She adds, “Intellectual freedom depends upon material things. Poetry depends upon intellectual freedom. And women have always been poor… from the beginning of time. Women have had less intellectual freedom than the sons of Athenian slaves. Women, then, have not had a dog’s chance of writing poetry. That is why I have laid so much stress on money and a room of one’s own.” (Pg. 112)This is a profound and always-timely response to the argument, “Why are there no great women poets/writers/scientists/philosophers?” [Of course, since Woolf wrote in 1929, we now HAVE seen women excel in all these areas, so far fewer people will ask such questions.] This is one of Woolf’s fascinating books, and is of great importance for the development of later feminist thought.

0 of 0 people found the following review helpful. Good reprint of this classic work By Amazon Customer Good reprint of this classic work, which remains to this day an important contribution to literary criticism and the prospects for the female author. Highly recommended

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A Room of One's Own, by Virginia Woolf

A Room of One's Own, by Virginia Woolf

A Room of One's Own, by Virginia Woolf