Why, she asked, pressing her chin on James’s head, should they grow up so fast? Why should they go to school? She would have liked always to have had a baby. She was happiest carrying one in her arms. Then people might say she was tyrannical, domineering, masterful, if they chose; she did not mind. And, touching his hair with her lips, she thought, he will never be so happy again, but stopped herself, remembering how it angered her husband that she should say that. Still, it was true. They were happier now than they would ever be again. A tenpenny tea set made Cam happy for days. She heard them stamping and crowing on the floor above her head the moment they awoke. They came bustling along the passage. Then the door sprang open and in they came, fresh as roses, staring, wide awake, as if this coming into the dining-room after breakfast, which they did every day of their lives, was a positive event to them, and so on, with one thing after another, all day long, until she went up to say good-night to them, and found them netted in their cots like birds among cherries and raspberries, still making up stories about some little bit of rubbish–something they had heard, something they had picked up in the garden. They all had their little treasures… And so she went down and said to her husband, Why must they grow up and lose it all? Never will they be so happy again.
And he was angry. Why take such a gloomy view of life? he said. It is not sensible. For it was odd; and she believed it to be true; that with all his gloom and desperation he was happier, more hopeful on the whole, than she was. Less exposed to human worries–perhaps that was it. He had always his work to fall back on. Not that she herself was “pessimistic,” as he accused her of being. Only she thought life–and a little strip of time presented itself to her eyes–her fifty years. There it was before her–life.
Life, she thought–but she did not finish her thought. She took a look at life, for she had a clear sense of it there, something real, something private, which she shared neither with her children nor with her husband. 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. There were eternal problems: suffering; death; the poor. There was always a woman dying of cancer even here. And yet she had said to all these children, You shall go through it all. To eight people she had said relentlessly that (and the bill for the greenhouse would be fifty pounds).
For that reason, knowing what was before them–love and ambition and being wretched alone in dreary places–she had often the feeling, Why must they grow up and lose it all? And then she said to herself, brandishing her sword at life, Nonsense. They will be perfectly happy.
Excerpt, To the Lighthouse by Virgina Woolf. Images, me.
Learn more about Compositions here. Read all the Compositions in the series here.
Perfect.
I think your pictures have done more than just “justice” to Wolf’s text…It has actually given it such a lift! I think your photos look stunning. These are the sort of pics I dream to have in the future…Imagine looking back at them when you’re older and actually seeing how happy you were…Priceless!
Hugs x
What an absolutely beautiful post! My son is entering the first grade in August and the first thing I thought when the clock struck midnight on New Year’s Eve was “Sam is starting school this year”. My heart skipped a beat.
That comments made my heart skip a beat. So well said.
this is so good…i love it! more, please!
I love this. As a Momma to 2 teenagers, I FEEL her words! Please do more of these “compositions”.
So glad you didn’t lose precious pictures of you and your boys!
peace,
Donna
knew i was going to love this series. those pictures are perfectly suited to the prose. beautiful!
Oh, Jules! This is absolutely beautiful. I read this book years ago (in high school… when I thought myself plenty mature and intelligent to glean meaning from it), and I also wrote a research paper on Virginia Woolf. But your passage here reminds me that there is much I missed at 18, and that this book deserves a re-read. Thank you. =) This series is a fantastic idea and I look forward to reading more. I think it will encourage people to pick up books they may not have otherwise – which is always a good thing.
That was my thought. Classics/modern literature can be a HARD read. Really hard. I started and stopped Virginia Woolf a million times over the last 10 years, and it wasn’t until this summer that I found a way to read these kind of books in a way that keeps me engaged. Let’s face it, candy like Twilight is FUN to read. It’s effortless! But the good stuff, which is so hard to unwind with, is worth reading, too. Once you figure out how to do it, it’s not as bad.
My heart just melted. So beautiful!
Beautiful! I’m stopping by the library to pick up this book on my way home from work.
You make motherhood so appealing.
Yay! (and thank you.) :)
I love this post!! Please keep the compositions coming!
Brilliant, perfectly executed and I feel like I accomplished something rather than have my brain cells fried by more products to covet. Love it, love it. What took you so long silly girl?
I have no idea. Now I feel silly for not doing it sooner. ;)
love, love, love. this is a prime example of why I visit your blog everyday.
Beautiful. So beautiful!
Really love that last photo. What a sweet family hug.
I read your blog several times a week, but have never posted. I was mildly obsessed with Woolf in college and To the Lighthouse is easily my favorite book. But I have forgotten why. And now I remember, right at the exact time that I feel the same as Mrs Ramsay with my two year old telling me things like “my dinosaur loves you, momma. he loves me too”, as he did today.
Reading your blog is so fulfilling; you are a beautiful writer.
Thanks for reminding me of beautiful prose.
Sarah
Thank you! That bit about your son and the dinosaur made me tear up a bit. I’m a bit emotional today! I blame the classic literature. :)
Lovely, lovely.
Perfection!
This book is in my unread library. I keep picking it up and putting it back down again.
Inspired to pick it up once more.
I did the same thing. The beginning is meh, the middle is amazing, and the end is meh (only because the middle was something else!). This modern literature/stream of consciousness writing can be difficult. It’s not my favorite form, and yet my book has countless markings, dog ears, and post-its all throughout. It was very inspiring.
Don’t even get me started on stream of consciousness. It makes me think of Faulkner, and Faulkner gives me hives! And, I say this as a person with a degree in creative writing!
As I Lay Dying……my body quakes at the remembrance.
Wonderful. The bookworm in me is swooning. I absolutely love the idea and am excited for more!
You put so much thought into your blog, and it shows.
this is such a fun idea…thank you.
What a lovely post. I read the book years ago and I could not remember a single detail about it other than the author. Reading this excerpt (to which I can now relate) combined with your pictures brought the words back to life for me. I think I will spend some time with Virginia Woolf again. I’m really looking forward to more of this series. Well done!
You already know this, but I think the whole Compositions series is a genius idea. And your photographs bring so much more to the text � it’s really beautiful.
Precious. Beautiful photos. It’s a great thing to appreciate life as it’s happening � to appreciate every single moment with your children, because suddenly they are 24 and 17! And even then, you appreciate every moment with them. Every moment that has led up to now and every moment yet to come. Because no matter how old they are, they are your children, and precious. A phenomenal post. Thank you.
Beautiful pictures and words!
Just now getting a chance to sit down and read this. Seriously Jules, why were you nervous about this series? I think you need to think a bit more highly of your readers…we are a group of smart, thoughtful woman that have an appreciation for literature. I guess I can’t speak for everyone, but I know I started reading your blog for your writing and honesty, and this type of series is right up our alley.
I think Miss B said it perfectly ‘Brilliant, perfectly executed and I feel like I accomplished something rather than have my brain cells fried by more products to covet”
and that bit about thinking more highly of your readers is not meant as an insult, i hope you take it how I meant it :)
It’s not that I didn’t think highly of my readers. I just don’t see my writing on par with classic literature, so, yes, I thought it might be an odd departure. Still, the idea would not leave me alone. It was haunting me, and it seemed like signs were popping up all over the place, online and off. I’m glad I followed my gut instincts and I’m glad so many of you like it.
It’s funny you make that “honesty” description. So many people say that to me, and I really don’t know what they mean. I don’t think I write more honestly than the next blogger so, again, I think this is me having trouble seeing me and my blog in the right perspective.
If I had the time I’d rifle through your archives and find a list of at least 10 posts that show your honesty so you can know what I mean. But since I don’t have the time, just trust me on this one ;)
And to add, what I mean by honesty is that I can get a sense of who you are. With many of the pretty design, craft and food blogs, while they are very pretty, I don’t ever get a true sense of who the writer is. With your writing, I feel like I know you…not in a creepy stalker way mind you :)
best.post.ever.
Beautiful, the excerpt and the photos. I love that Woolf includes a passage on stocking knitting in this book.
when i don’t know what to read, i always revisit the classics. this is so beautiful, heartbreaking…is this your new series?