When I Was Young and Knew Virginia Woolf

Amelia

You once sent me an amusing letter in which you said, "As you know, I'm reading V. Woolf's letters so I've got some kind of British accent in my head right now."  We wrote emails back and forth about coming to terms with a wonderful artist who committed suicide.  I also wrote about the complexity of my feelings on the subject on Sut Nam Bonai (always with the complexity of my feelings on Sut Nam Bonsai!).  And somewhere last spring, I fell into the arms of Annie Leibovitz's book Pilgrimage, and never wanted to come home. 

I cannot say enough about this book.  Her writing is superb.  The photographs are adrenaline shots.  And the places she visits - Freud's house; Concord, Mass; V. Woolf's Monks House - are fascinating. 

Obviously, we're not the only ones with complex feelings about Virgina Woolf.  May Sarton writes, in her book Journal of a Solitude (which I talk about so often you must think I carry it around like a hanky):

"The sheer vital energy of the Woolfs always astonishes me when I stop to consider what they accomplished on any given day.  Fragile she may have been, living on the edge of psychic disturbance, but think what she managed to do nonetheless - not only the novels (every one a break-through in form), but all those essays and reviews, all the work of the Hogarth Press...Who of us could have accomplished what she did?"

She then goes on a fantastic rant about Woolf's work itself, which I found especially great in light of all the hullabaloo around Wikipedia creating a separate list for American Woman Novelists, instead of letting all American Novelists hang out in the same category. 

Sarton writes: "It is painful that such genius should evoke such mean-spirited response at present.  Is genius so common that we can afford to brush it aside?...Half the world is feminine - why is there resentment at a female-oriented art?"

This makes me think of the recent success of Lena Dunham, a hot topic for sure, and what someone wisely said on his podcast, and I'm paraphrasing here: The outcry around Lena Dunham's body and success is more proof we are a society that can't stop hating women for one second.

This is strong, I know, and I don't mean to drag G&G down a rabbit hole of politics.  But I think it's important to think about, for myself: how do I contribute catty flames to the fire?  And how better can I support other women in their art? 

In fairness and truth, most of the men in my life are better feminists than I am.  My husband, for example, and my great friend Lukis, consistently support my work in ways I am unable to.  And when I read a great book by a woman I admire, I am often tempted to throw it across the room and declare it rubbish, so great is my jealousy. 

This is more true than I wish.  I also do this with books written by men, however, so I don't know what that makes me.  A small human being, perhaps?

Finally, Sarton says: "When I was young and knew Virginia Woolf slightly, I learned something that startled me - that a person may be ultrasensitive and not warm.  She was intensely curious and plied one with questions...But I did feel at times as though I were "a specimen American young poet" to be absorbed and filed away in the novelist's store of vicarious experience." 

This makes me want to go around saying, When I was young and knew Virginia Woolf all week long.

Silliness and politics aside, I wrote to show you the River Ouse, of which Leibovitz writes: "...where Virginia Woolf walked every day. She drowned there in 1941."

I love Annie Leibovitz.  Her focus, her drive, and technical visions make me salivate.  And I will never throw Pilgrimage across the room.  Never.  But I might just sleep with it beneath my pillow.  

Big dreams to you and all the women out there creating, and also to the beautiful men and women who support them.
Love,
Kara
 

All images in this post were borrowed gratefully from Leibovitz' book Pilgrimage, and were cropped in deference to original content.  Please purchase this book to delve more into the images, or support your local library and check it out! 


6/11/13
Dear Kara:
I'm in such agreement with you that I'm afraid I have very little to add! I, too, have been known to throw a book authored by a woman across the room (metaphorically speaking). In fact, when a newly formed book group recently chose the book The Interestings by Meg Wolitzer and I started to read it, I realized that I have gone quite a long while without reading a contemporary novel written by a woman. (And if I were to really dig into this matter, I bet it has something to do with the fact that my own novel still sits on my computer desktop, revised and ready to be published and widely circulated!)

But wasn't it you that once told me that jealousy is (I'm paraphrasing horribly) just the voice inside of us saying: I can do that too, just give me the chance! And yet, I am with you in your desire to want to better support women and their art. OH and I know how you can start! By watching season one of Dunham's Girls! Great. It's decided then. Can't wait to discuss!

With love from Echo Park,
Amelia