Virginia Woolf turned to her diary as to an intimate friend, to whom she could freely and spontaneously confide her thoughts on public events or the joys and trials of domestic life. Between 1st January 1915 and her death in 1941 she regularly recorded her thoughts with unfailing grace, courage, honesty and wit. The result is one of the greatest diaries in the English language.
(Adeline) Virginia Woolf was an English novelist and essayist regarded as one of the foremost modernist literary figures of the twentieth century.
During the interwar period, Woolf was a significant figure in London literary society and a member of the Bloomsbury Group. Her most famous works include the novels Mrs. Dalloway (1925), To the Lighthouse (1927), and Orlando (1928), and the book-length essay A Room of One's Own (1929) with its famous dictum, "a woman must have money and a room of her own if she is to write fiction."
"All writers are unhappy. The picture of the world in books is thus too dark. The wordless are the happy: women in cottage gardens. Now, in my nightgown, to walk on the marshes."
Well, it's definitely old news when I state this, so I'm really only saying it for those that don't know; I adore Virginia Woolf. The more I read from her, the more she fascinates me with not only her words, but her wit, her style and quality that is unmatched.
I finished reading these diaries a few days ago with my last Earl Grey of the day, and I chose to sit it out and end it with Virginia. It felt bittersweet to have finished it, and I feel privileged to have had this chance to read such eloquent prose. Her diaries read slightly differently than her stories, but it still has the same wonderful style that is Woolf's and Woolf's alone. She was excellent at really setting the scene, and in some entries, I felt like I was really there.
I think some people believe Woolf to have been a snob of sorts, but I'd say that these diaries really show her character for what she was, imperfect, rather like everyone else. Her tender love for Leonard was very touching (and somewhat surprising), the way she displayed insecurities about her own abilities, the way in which she described someone she heavily disliked and of course, that delicious wit she took with her everywhere.
As I am a person that has read the majority of Woolf's work and will do so religiously until I can do so no longer, I probably love this more than a person that hasn't delved into Woolf yet, so I would probably recommend something else rather than her diaries as a starting point.
As the reader draws closer to 1941 (the year of her suicide) I feel the content changes slightly, as I believe Woolf suffers more with the headaches and her mind, and I felt rather sad at this section, knowing I was closer to the end. (I also remember that heartbreaking letter she left for Leonard before she took her life.)
Woolf had a way of drawing out the beauty in every word she wrote, so all of those days surrounded in papers really did pay off. She delights the mind and she has stirred my soul indefinitely.
Ler diários é uma das minhas leituras favoritas. Virginia Woolf deixou um conjunto de cadernos, que posteriormente foram editados e publicados. Como escrita diarística não preparada pelo autor para publicação, estas entradas são muitas vezes "demasiado sinceras e clarividentes" para alguns leitores. Para mim foi uma percurso de cerca de 11 meses que me encantou e com o qual aprendi a compreender melhor a mulher Virgínia, e a querer ler mais a escritora Virgínia.
I don’t even know how to describe how reading Virginia Woolf makes me feel— Almost as if the rest of the world outside of those pages has blurred to a soft yellow glow and I’m left feeling absorbed, raw, and utterly transfixed. She encompasses and invokes so much through these diaries and I was truly left unable to get her out of my mind. She is a fascinating woman, one of the most incredible writers of all time, and I’m now definitely going to read more and more of her and more and more about her life.
Selected Diaries read for my Woolfish summer. The diary starts in 1915 and ends in 1941 shortly before Woolf died.
I read the biography by Hermione Lee and enjoyed that, but really I much prefer Woolf in her own words. Her Moments of Being is my favourite of all her work. I do think having read Lees biography helped me understand all the people and places Woolf speaks of though. In amongst the comings and goings of her life, there are the most perfect little jewels of supreme insight and beauty. Utterly poetic!
In these diary entries I think she powerfully describes her creative process. I found that absolutely fascinating. She also lays bare her insecurities and I felt was honest with herself about her inconsistencies, failings and flaws as well as taking private, non bragging but a warm joy and delight in her successes. One thing that made me smile was her reaction to critics of her work. It was very much ‘ I don’t care, I don’t care, I don’t care…. ‘ and then she does care, very much.
The main take away I took from this was the utter love between herself and Leonard, her husband. Much is made of Woolfs relationships but really they were chaff in the wind compared to L. (As she calls him). Every so often there is a little aside in her diary about ‘L’ that quite melts your heart, tiny moments of their life together at speak volumes. Her final letter to him has to be the most heartbreaking thing you could ever read. Her last line ‘I don’t think two people could have been happier than we have been’
At one point she lists six people who she couldn’t live without.. Leonard being first, and then her sister and old beloved Bloomsbury group friends.. none of the more publicised,famous friendships ..
What I don’t understand is how gregarious she was.. writing always seems such a solitary occupation in a ‘room of one’s own’. But blimey how on earth did she find the head space to write! Oh but the people she meets and describes! Utterly compelling reading. As she says ‘Still this is life - never to be sitting down for longer than one feels inclined’
Anyway, born in the Victorian era, living through two world wars, seeing such incredible changes and historical events, all this makes for a fascinating read. What is all the more fascinating is that she describes events like Mosely, seeing First World War veterans on the street post war, the general strike, the rise of fascism, the abdication crisis, food shortages, early bombing raids in 1940 etc from a none historic but ‘life on the ground’ perspective and I find that so much more interesting than full on history reading. It is all interspersed with what she is writing, who came to dinner, what is growing in the garden and that she saw a stoat yesterday!
26 dias na companhia de 26 anos de Virginia Woolf. O reconforto da expressão tão humanamente imperfeita, o vislumbrar quase transgressor das falhas de carácter, das impressões mais indignas, das mesquinhices mais íntimas. São raros os momentos líricos ou introspectivos (esses deixava-os ela para os romances); os diários são o retrato do que sobra: uma viagem pelas oscilações de humor, sem dúvida, pelos orgulhos e as perdas e os desesperos e tudo o que se passa no meio - mas sobretudo a delícia do quotidiano, as trivialidades despejadas para as folhas porque transbordavam dos dias: a vergonha do chiar dos sapatos ao entrar na biblioteca silenciosa depois de uma corrida à chuva.
Even in her private diaries Virginia Woolf is a beautiful, emotive writer who brings to life the people around her and the life she shared with her husband Leonard. A must read for any lover of Woolf who wishes to get a deeper sense of the woman behind the pen.
quina sort haver nascut en el mateix món en el qual va existir virginia woolf. a més de les seves novel·les, ara tinc el privilegi d’haver pogut llegir 26 anys de la seva vida, malauradament massa curta. després de gairebé dos mesos i 500 pàgines d'una lletra molt molt molt petita, crec que són essencials per entendre la seva psicologia i filosofia, i d’aquesta manera entendre millor la seva escriptura. especialment, m’ha fascinat el detallisme i la descripció meticulosa de les persones del seu dia a dia amb la mateixa excel·lència que els personatges de les seves ficcions, així com la narració de la seva quotidianitat mitjançant una prosa deliciosa.
cada any és un reflex de l’evolució del seu pensament sobre l'amistat, l’amor, la política, els diners, el passat, el present, la literatura… vaja, una bíblia sobre la vida que he subratllat amb tres llapissos diferents. tanmateix, penso que m’ha anat bé per desmitificar-la en alguns aspectes, perquè realment és filla de la seva època i de la seva classe socioeconòmica. per sort, segueixo pensant — i és inevitable demostrar-ho — que era una dona definitivament avançada als seus temps, amb idees importantíssimes i intemporals per rellegir al llarg de tota la història.
s’ha de dir que ha estat també una muntanya russa d’emocions llegir com anava passant la seva vida — de la qual ella estava conscientment molt contenta i satisfeta — envoltada de guerres, morts d’estimats i una salut mental delicada. malgrat totes aquestes dificultats, la seva resiliència i força de tirar endavant fins a l’ultimíssim moment són una grandíssima inspiració.
You cannot really easily rate someone’s diaries- it somehow feels wrong as they are such a personal thing and someone’s life- I’m not sure you can place a starred value on that. Therefore my five star rating just refers to how much I enjoyed reading these and got out of them.
This is a selection of edited diary entries spanning over several decades. They provide a fascinating insight both into the times and Woolf’s own life. She is a wonderful writer who really situates you in the moment, capturing little anecdotes of daily life as well as lots of introspective moments too. I hadn’t really appreciated the sheer number of famous people she met and spoke to in her lifetime and in her diaries she writes of subjects they spoke on, her impression of them and characteristics (T.S. Eliot, Freud and Hardy to name a very mere few). Her own doubts of her writing and frustration of the process feature heavily as do her difficulty with reviews and critics. What was also interesting was reading of the times Woolf lived through. Both World Wars are written about in detail (including London bombing, her own experience lying under a tree as bombs fell around, the fear of a successful invasion…), Spanish Flu epidemics (people behaved quite like they do now with Covid and there are some quite astonishing parallels to long-Covid though I guess post viral fatigue/ME has also been around just not recognised to the same extent when not in a mass pandemic). Also mentioned is the death of one King and the abdication of another, lots about politics, The League of Nations and ideas on class, poverty and the cost of things. Virginia’s own ill health, both physical and mental, are frequently talked about too.
If you’ve enjoyed Virginia Woolf’s other writings you will definitely enjoy these.
But it is always a question wheter I wish to avoid these glooms. In part they are the result of getting away by oneself. These nine weeks give one a plunge into deep waters; which is a little alarming, but full of interest. One goes down into the well and nothings protects one from the assault of truth. Down there I can't write or read; I exisst however. I am. Then I asm myself what I am? and get a closer though less flattering answer than I should on the surface - where, to tell the truth, I get more praise than is right. I am glad to find it on the whole interesting, though so acutely unpleasant. p. 221
I finished this book at breakfast this morning. While sipping my coffee, looking at the sky slowly clearing, I was thinking to myself how wonderful it has been to read these diaries. I have relished every minute of it. Marveling at the eloquent and lyrical manner Virginia Woolf wrote about her every day life, making scenes come to life as if a film was playing in my head. Seeing how well she wrote even the most private of her writings, made that I would very much like to read everything this woman (or her family posthumously) ever published. She is particullary good at describing character impressions, scenes and introspective thoughts, all of them vibrantly and full of humor (of the ironic sort). I also found it very interesting to learn more about her life, especially how she saw it herself. She often managed to surprise me, with the endearing way she thought of her husband Leonard and her sister Vanessa, and how down to earth and humble she could be. Of course this work is far from perfect, as one would expect reading someones most private thoughts. Some of the entries came across snobby or ableist, then unexpectedly insecure and bleak, then mundane... yet wonderful. I would argue that this book was perfect in it's imperfectness, displaying the life of a flawed human being in it's most sincere and heartfelt way. Of course as someone who has been enjoying all the authors work I have read so far, I probably had more context and inclination to love reading these selected diaries than someone who is not acquinted with Woolf at all. Yet for me (and as I expect someone who is familiar with at least some of her books) it gave an extra dimension to her writing, as well as to my own surprisingly. It brought back my own wonder for fiction and the beauty of words. In a way, the book was like a talisman for me. I admit I sometimes carried it arround with me, just to have it nearby. Could I already have read the best book of the year? Well, I can't be sure of course but it is definitely going to be one of my favourites.
Yes of course this autumn has been a tremendous revelation. It was a great season of liberation.Well - it is always doubtful how far one human being can be free. However, I secured a season of intoxicating exhilaration. Nor do I intend to let myself pay for it with the usual black despair. I intend to circumvent that supervening ghost - that which always trails its damp wings behind my glories. I shall be very wary. To suppress oneself and run freely out in joy - such is the perfect infallible and simple presecription. And to use one's hands and eyes; to talk to people; to be a straw on the river, now and then - passive, not striving to say this is this. If one does not lie back and sum up and say to the moment, this very moment, Stay you are so fair, what will be one's gain dying? No: stay, this moment. No one ever days that enough. I am now going in, to see L. and say Stay this moment. p.329
Virginia Woolf is an author who has a really special place in my heart. My GCSE English teacher was a massive fan of Woolf, and gave her books to me to read. Mrs Dalloway is a firm favourite, A Room of One's Own is an absolute must-read if you are interested in feminism and the wonderful book & film The Hours wouldn't exist without her.
Sadly, Woolf is probably best known for the fact that her life ended early when she committed suicide, and these selected diaries chart her life from 1912 until her death in 1941. Although this is a long period of time, there are frequent gaps in the diary due either to ill health, general business (her and husband Leonard ran a printing press in addition to both writing) or travelling abroad.
Woolf's descriptions of her day-to-day life are really interesting, and as she was a member of the famous Bloomsbury set she seemed to hang out with all the movers and shakers of the time period. These included the authors EM Forster and Aldous Huxley, and the influential economist Maynard Keynes. She even has tea and attends the funeral of classic author Thomas Hardy, who I assumed had been dead a long time.
Whilst there were times when I felt disappointed with Woolf (especially in terms of her attitude towards women of lower class), it is worth remembering that we've all put problematic stuff in our diaries. This book offers a really interesting insight into her life and writing process (it's unbelievable how quickly she wrote such brilliant works) and I'm really interested to get my hands on her letters soon.
I didn’t think anything could surpass Woolf’s letters in my estimation, but her diaries might. I am in complete agreement with the editor when he states that her diaries (and I would include her letters) rank with the greatest of her novels, and that they are masterpieces. Her mind is so extraordinary; she herself is so extraordinary- it felt like a privilege immersing myself in her musings. Reading her diaries is a completely different experience than her novels, or her letters, but equally as compelling, full of rich observations about life, aging, fellow writers/artists, friendship, and love. I just adore her and am in complete awe of her.
Ahhh this was amazing, and the kind of thing that made me want to write myself. Every now and then I woud feel slightly frustrated/paranoid/helpless by the fact that this is "selected"... Abridged stuff makes me a little anxious because you can only tell what's been cut out by reading the full thing! Have full entries been cut out, or all of them included but shortened? I can't quite decide which is worse. It's all well and good for Quentin Bell to point the reader to the full five volumes but too late this is the book I'm now reading, you see what I mean? And I'm the kind of Virginia Woolf nerd that would potentially read the full five volumes if they weren't slightly difficult to find and thus about £20 each... But all this frustration with the "selecting" of the diaries only reveals my love of the diaries themselves. The prose is refreshingly snappy and clear and still manages to be so juicy and evocative and had me underlining and tabbing many a page. Such a good diary! Also if you find Woolf's intense modernist writing a bit too much (which is understandable), I would recommend this! It manages to completely contrast with all that while still getting at all the vibes from a different angle. And it educated me a lot about all history of the time, though I couldn't blame her for guiltily confessing that gossip is much better to write about in the diary. But some things were too all-encompassing to not delve into, like the wars, which were were sad but interesting to read about, as the only other war diary I've read is Anne Frank's. I found it hilarious to see Woolf use her diary as procrastination from writing, and this also explains why it's so different. Trying to read 'Flush' in line with Woolf mentioning it in her diary was admittedly a bit of an underwhelming experiment as she barely mentioned it compared to most other writing, but in general I would sort of recommend that reading method? Maybe I will do some of that method when I read 'A Writer's Diary', which consists of all the entries relevant to her writing (selected by Leonard), the nature of which I can also foresee being frustrating, but then again, that selecting has more of a purpose I guess. It's strange how I was worried about finding spoilers about Woolf's life even though it's real in a sense.
I have read number of Woolf's novel and essays, including the common reader. I am not Woolf aficionado and I knew she and the Bloomsbury group looked down upon one of my favorite author Arnold Bennett. The diaries are a gem; you can feel her mental anguish, depression, mood swings through out. You also get introduced to so many colorful characters like Elliott, Huxley, Lytton, Webbs and so many more. Also includes her relationship with Mansfield, Vita and others. There are lots Of reference to Keynes. You can feel how her mind gradually declines with worsening world situation (WW2), especially her description of bombs whizzing above, during the battle of Britain. Overall a great anthology of her diaries. You also get a picture of her writing habit, the anxieties she feels about how the critic might respond, the anguish of negative reviews, the elation from positive ones etc. Gives a great picture of the literary circle in the early half of 20th century.
A violent rain storm on the pond. The pond is covered with little white thorns; bristling with leaping white thorns, like the thorns on a small porcupine; then black waves cross it: black shudders; a helter skelter rain, and the elms tossing it up and down; the pond overflowing on one side. Then completely smooth for a moment. Then prickled: thorns like glass; but leaping up and down incessantly. A rapid smirch of shadow. Now light from the sun: green and red: shining: the pond a sage green: the grass brilliant green: red berries on the hedges: the cows very white: purple over Asheham.
Selected Diaries by Virginia Woolf By @vintagebooks @penguinukbooks The first read of the year and the first book that I haven't finished reading and have given towards the end The book is collection of the journal writings of the author Virginia Woolf. A women who has done an amazing work in the field of literature,but has had a depressing life. Despite having a amazing career, husband and social life with people of same intellectual calibre, she had tonight depression, nervous attacks, headache. This led her to suicide in the year 1941
This feels like an impossible book to review - how can I critique the diary entries of a woman writing 100 years ago? it's almost insulting to the work. I found it fascinating - I love reading diaries written by writers and I really appreciate Woolf's writing.
The book covers roughly the last 30 years of her life and I became so engrossed that I felt a loss and sadness at finishing it. Knowing the book had ended but also that Virginia Woolf's life has come to an end too.
"Demasiados dias padrão - por isso, não consigo escrever, mas graças a Deus, tenho a sensação de que cheguei à terra-de-ninguém que procuro; e posso passar do exterior para o interior e habitar a eternidade. Uma sensação estranha, muito feliz e livre, como não tive ao terminar qualquer outro dos livros. E este é prodigiosamente longo, ainda por cima. Então, o que significa isto?" (Quarta-Feira, 27 de Novembro - 1935)
Truthfully I’m not sure if I can say I finished the book, I read half of the nearly 600 pages. I found a lot of it very interesting as I love journaling and it was very sweet to be able to learn more about someone who is so genius. I honestly think as I get older maybe I’ll come back and read the second half.
I’m lost for words. I know Ms Woolf had her demons but, as a Londoner myself, I feel that London’s destruction during the war was destroying her soul. It was the final straw. I wish so much she could’ve bounced back like London did. I hope she found peace. At last.
Um mergulho nos estados de espírito de VW que vão sendo relativamente constantes até à época da sua morte. O livro acaba num dia aparentemente normal, o que é intrigante.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
On almost every page, flashing out from the minutiae of day to day living, there are passages of astonishing brilliance. My goodness, that woman could write.
An intense and emotional text that reveals the tremendous energy to write and publish. This is a writer creating works of such subtle power that many of her contemporaries found difficult to understand. she wrote beyond the horizon and her work gices the reader a microscopic insight to the difficulties facing the artist in the face of banality. her daily life is somewhat covered by her detaiks if walks in the country and in London as well as her relationships with others during ger life. Woolf's stumbles emotionally at various stages if her social and professional life only to be saved by her determination to 'get it down on paper'. When World War Two broke in September 1939 Woolf takes on her final works with tremendous courage and in a sense I felt her end by suicide was a justified act of an artist abd woman literally sick to death of tge social and political machinations of the period. A wonderful and engrossing but painful read made beautiful by her life up against the coal face of modern twentieth century literature.
A very good book. So far have had names blinking at me when I look at the book shelf in an antiques centre because I've read the names in the Selected Diaries. And if you're interested in knowing someone else's viewpoint in the building up of the second world war, this is a book for you since Virginia talks about the build up until her death in 1941. Not only does she note the war, she also notes the deaths of other known writers and figures in history. A good read for a budding writer, but also a good read for a historian.