Noel’s Reviews > The Waves > Status Update
Noel
is 18% done
I will go now into the library and take out some book, and read and look; and read again and look. Here is a poem about a hedge. I will wander down it and pick flowers, green cowbind and the moonlight-coloured May, wild roses and ivy serpentine. I will clasp them in my hands and lay them on the desk’s shiny surface. I will sit by the river’s trembling edge and look at the water-lilies, broad and bright, which…
— 10 hours, 19 min ago
8 likes · Like flag
Noel’s Previous Updates
Noel
is 8% done
I sink down on the black plumes of sleep; its thick wings are pressed to my eyes. Travelling through darkness I see the stretched flower-beds, and Mrs Constable runs from behind the corner of the pampas-grass to say my aunt has come to fetch me in a carriage. I mount; I escape; I rise on spring-heeled boots over the tree-tops. But I am now fallen into the carriage at the hall door, where she sits nodding yellow…
— Aug 11, 2026 07:57PM
Noel
is 7% done
Look, the loop of the figure is beginning to fill with time; it holds the world in it. I begin to draw a figure and the world is looped in it, and I myself am outside the loop; which I now join so and seal up, and make entire. The world is entire, and I am outside of it, crying, “Oh save me, from being blown for ever outside the loop of time!”
— Aug 11, 2026 06:32PM
Comments Showing 1-2 of 2 (2 new)
date
newest »
newest »
message 1:
by
Noel
(new)
-
added it
10 hours, 18 min ago
…lit the oak that overhung the hedge with moonlight beams of their own watery light. I will pick flowers; I will bind flowers in one garland and clasp them and present them—Oh! to whom? There is some check in the flow of my being; a deep stream presses on some obstacle; it jerks; it tugs; some knot in the centre resists. Oh, this is pain, this is anguish! I faint, I fail. Now my body thaws; I am unsealed, I am incandescent. Now the stream pours in a deep tide fertilising, opening the shut, forcing the tight-folded, flooding free. To whom shall I give all that now flows through me, from my warm, my porous body? I will gather my flowers and present them—Oh! to whom?
reply
|
flag
One thing about Woolf’s stream-of-consciousness technique is that all her characters think in the same rhythm. Of course, that’s probably intentional. It’s not quite as blatant in To the Lighthouse because there her characters have different emotional make-ups, but that isn’t so much the case here in this book, which makes it much more difficult to read even though the characters’ soliloquies are clearly marked (unlike in To the Lighthouse where the thoughts seem to run into each other).