First in five volumes of Woolf’s published diaries. This starts mid-war, with a brief gap when Woolf had what’s referred to as a ‘breakdown’. I found elements of Woolf’s attitudes and opinions insufferable – she’s often casually racist, anti-Semitic despite her Jewish husband, and horribly condescending to all and sundry with exceptions made for the select few who gain unrestricted entry to her inner circle. She’s frequently waspish too but I quite warmed to that quality, probably because I’ve been known to be a bit snippy myself. But, for all her faults, some more forgivable than others, I still found her diaries absorbing, reading sections at night as a way of winding down before bed. This is the period when she and husband Leonard set up their famous Hogarth Press, so there are details of the authors they published such as Katherine Mansfield, literary gossip including the complicated relationships centred on her sister Vanessa Bell’s artist grouping at Charleston, parties with the painter Dora Carrington and writer Lytton Strachey, and socialite Ottoline Morrell. It seemed that anyone who was anyone on the London literary/artistic scene at some point crossed Woolf’s path. There’s also a great deal about Leonard Woolf’s political lectures and the progress of elements of the left intelligentsia - but here I would have liked less of the detail of what he did and where he went and more about his actual political beliefs. Woolf covers the minutiae of everyday living through the war for her social class: rationing, air raids, and recurring servant problems. Yet even so she has, what I think for many would be, an enviable lifestyle, other women do her cooking and domestic work; she has a supportive family and partner; free books for review purposes; a large array of friends; she lives in a peaceful community surrounded by beautiful countryside and has the resources to develop her writing and publishing career; her time is her own to organise.
There were some passages I particularly admired, and some striking phrases as well as entries that were surprisingly mundane. Although the sheer numbers of people Woolf mingled with made following some of the more obscure ‘characters’ in her sphere challenging at times, and more extensive cross-referencing would have been very useful. I’m not sure how interesting this volume of her diary would be in general but I’m fascinated by that period of literary modernism, social history in general and Woolf’s work in particular, so for me this was worth reading. It was also quite relaxing to disappear into someone else’s world for periods of time.