It was a dusky early summer evening. I was driving back from London, listening to the radio, chasing the sun which was setting in front of me. I was listening to the radio and this song came on. The after that first drum beat, a mere 3 seconds in, I was hooked. Like SERIOUSLY hooked. This doesn’t happen to me to often. I’m strictly a BBC Radio 4 girl: plays, documentaries on cheese making, how to grow the best azaleas, the lot. I love it. Continue reading →
Virginia Woolf is a woman who always intimidated me; the sense of bourgeois exclusivity which surrounded her work made it seem somewhat unreachable to me. The opacity of her writing when I first picked up Between the Acts and failed to even realise it was all about the war left me defeated and quite ready to never pick up another of her books. I was resigned to knowing that I would never love Woolf, or Joyce, and that modernism was not for me. Now, years on, I have learnt to love Virginia Woolf and consider her to be one of my favourites. Not all of her work is baffling or abstract, a lot of it is incredibly beautiful and powerful. I shan’t go through the plot of each in detail because that isn’t really the point of her work. Consider reading Woolf to be an exploration of emotion. humanity and life rather than a plot.