
by Joel Rich
(originally delivered in the University
of Chicago's First Friday Lecture series - February 1992)
A ROOM OF ONE'S OWN, the subject of our attention today, was based on lectures
that Virginia Woolf gave at two women's colleges. The lectures were read in October of
1928 and Woolf revised them for publication the following year.
When she gave these lectures, Woolf might well be described as at the height of her
powers.
TO THE LIGHTHOUSE had been published in May of 1927 and had met with a
generally positive response from both critics and public; indeed, it sold better than any
of its predecessors.
And in October of that year, Woolf conceived what would be her most unusual work and
the one that would give her the most pleasure.
This was ORLANDO.
In her diary, she describes ORLANDO as "a biography beginning in the year
1500 and continuing to the present day [in which the main character, modeled on her close
friend, Vita Sackville West] changes from one sex to another."
"What a treat," she writes.
ORLANDO was finished in March of 1928.
In May of '28 Woolf traveled to Paris to receive the Femina Vie Heureuse prize for TO
THE LIGHTHOUSE. This woman's prize, by the way, was the only award she ever accepted
during her lifetime
That summer, she began working seriously on the lectures on Women & Fiction.
In September, ORLANDO was published to significant acclaim. From London, her
sister Vanessa would write: "the great excitement [here] is Virginia's new book"
And as her nephew Quentin Bell observes in his biography of her, ORLANDO moved
Woolf into the realm of public accessibility.
By the time ORLANDO was published, Bell writes, "a great many people had
discovered that Virginia Woolf was a novelist that had to be tackled if one were to lay
any claims to intellectual alertness. On the other hand, her manner of writing was still
unfamiliar. For these, ORLANDO came like an answer to prayer. Here was a work by a
highbrow - a 'difficult novelist' -, which nevertheless was easy, amusing, and
straightforward in its narrative.
Sales were impressive. TO THE LIGHTHOUSE had sold 3,800 copies in its first
year. ORLANDO sold over 8,000 in its first six months.
It was, her husband Leonard said, the turning point in her career as a novelist.
So in late October of 1928, when she went to Cambridge with Leonard and Vanessa and
gave her lectures at Newnham and Girton, colleges there was, her sister remembered,
"an atmosphere of triumph."
Virginia Woolf, born on January 25, 1882, was then 46 years old.
The process that turned the lectures into a book took much of the following year and
provided its author some measure of satisfaction, especially once she settled on the
work's form.
In her diary entry for April 13, she notes that Women and Fiction [the working title
for what would become A ROOM OF ONE'S OWN] has considerable conviction. "I
think that the form, half talk half soliloquy allows me to get more on the page than any
how else."
This form, moreover, allows her to write more rapidly than usual, even if it
necessitates more revision
When she began to compose in this manner she observes in her diary, "it made
itself up and forced itself upon me . . . at such a rate that when I got pen & paper
it was like a water bottle turned upside down."
"The writing was as quick as my hand could write; too quick for I am now toiling
to revise; but this way gives one freedom & lets one leap from back to back of one's
thoughts.
The excitement, one might suggest, that the reader may feel in the rapid movement of
the author's mind in A Room was mirrored in its creation
Be that as it may, Woolf was not without misgivings as she created A ROOM.
In May of '29 she writes in her diary:
"About W. & F. I am not sure-a brilliant essay? -I daresay; it has much work
in it, many opinions boiled down into a kind of jelly, which I have stained red as far as
I can.
But I am eager to be off - to write without any boundary coming slick in [my] eyes:
here my public has been too close: [it's difficult working with] facts; getting them
malleable, easily yielding to each other."
In June she would refer to A Room as "that much corrected book"
And in August, upon finally completing the corrections, she would ask:
"Good or bad? [It] has an uneasy life in it I think; you feel the creature
arching its back and galloping on, though as usual, much is watery & flimsy &
pitched in too high a voice."
In October, as the book was about to be published, she would wonder how it would be
received:
"I will here sum up my impressions," she writes in her diary, "before
publishing A Room of One's Own. It is a little ominous that Morgan [E.M. Forster] won't
review it. It makes me suspect that there is a shrill feminine tone in it which my
intimate friends will dislike.
I forecast, then, that I shall get no criticism, except of the evasive jocular kind
... that the press will be kind & talk of its charm, & sprightliness; also I shall
be attacked for a feminist & hinted at for a sapphist; ... I shall get a good many
letters from young women.
I am afraid I will not be taken seriously
I doubt that I mind very much"
Whether she minded or not, she needn't have feared.
A ROOM OF ONE'S OWN was published both in England (by her and her husband's
Hogarth Press) and in America, on October 24, 1929. It was an immediate success - with the
public, with the critics, and with her friends
" ... the sales of A Room are unprecedented," she would write in her
diary, "have beaten Orlando. ... orders for 100 taken as coolly as 12's used to be.
We have sold, I think, 5500; & our next year's income is made.
And in her letters to her friends we can see Woolf's appreciation of their response to
A ROOM, along with her continuing assessment of it.
In October of 1929, on the heels of its publication, she writes about A ROOM to
Vita Sackville- West:
I'm delighted you read my little book, as you call it ... although you don't perceive
it, there is much reflection and some erudition in it...
And in November, to G.L. Dickinson, she writes:
I can't tell you how pleased I am that you like my little book ... I'm so glad that
you thought it good tempered - my blood is apt to boil on this one subject ... and I
didn't want it to. I wanted to encourage the young women - they seem to get fearfully
depressed - and also to induce discussion ... there are numbers of things that might be
said, and that aren't. The double soul [i.e. androgyny] is one of them; and also
education...
To E.M Forster, on January 3, 1930, she writes:
... being my best critic, as I think- how glad I am you liked A Room! I was awfully
afraid you wouldn't.
And in May, she writes to Dorothy Brett:
I am very glad you liked A Room. It was rather popularized for the young and should
have had more in it. But I wanted them to swallow certain ideas with a view to getting
their brains to work.
Finally, on a somewhat different note, in September of 1930 she writes to a Mrs.
Wilson:
I am delighted to learn that you have a new room and that I am the cause ... It is
most encouraging to hear that there is one woman who is not going to write - since I
published my little book I have been afraid that the writers would far outnumber the
readers. But I shall now think with great pleasure that you are using YOUR room to read
in, and so shall hope to be counted ... among your benefactors.
The letter to Mrs. Wilson is interesting because it suggests that early on Woolf's
book was seen to have a relevance to women beyond the literary sphere.
And this relevance has persisted in various forms over the years.
(I might observe a small indication of this is the use of the title of Woolf's work by
an interior designer in an article published not long ago in McCall's magazine. In that
article, the designer's point was that all women need something like what
Mrs. Wilson got. By the way, if I may, let me note that what you just heard might well
have been the very first time that McCall's was formally referred to within the framework
of a University of Chicago lecture.)
* * *
What are we to make of A ROOM OF ONE'S OWN?
Three months ago [October 1992] was its sixty-second birthday: - the sixty-second
anniversary of its publication.
A ROOM, we might say, has become "a senior citizen"
If it were a person, it's now eligible for social security
What might it have to say to us today?
To begin to answer this question, of course, one needs to examine the text, but at the
outset this may seem a daunting task.
A ROOM can appear to be somewhat perplexing due to the wealth of information and
perspectives that it contains; and getting a hold on it is not eased by the form that was
referred to previously, whereby the author gives herself the "freedom to leap from
back to back of [her] thoughts"
Indeed, one finds ONESELF leaping "back to back" with her through thinking
on a wide range of phenomena, including literary events, historical events, individual
writers, individual works, criticism, social theory, and personal experience.
One critic has pointed out, however, that this is really not as perplexing as it might
seem if one considers two different meanings of the word "culture"
On the one hand, "culture" is an anthropological concept: it's about how
people live, "embracing," one might say, the patterns through which people in a
society experience the world.
Different societies, we say, have different cultures
But on the other hand, there is the more common meaning of "culture;" it's
included in the anthropological meaning, but is usually thought of separately.
Here "culture" simply denotes the arts, including fiction
We speak of a person "getting culture," or "being cultured," for
example.
In A ROOM OF ONE'S OWN, it can be suggested, Virginia Woolf is concerned with BOTH
meanings of culture; and she connects these two meanings through the concept of gender
"Talk about the creative life of women," this is to say, about women and
fiction, necessarily involves speaking not only about cultural matters - in the sense of
aesthetic things - but it also involves considering socio-cultural things like political
economy and social history
The topic of women and fiction encompasses both cultural meanings
And it's part of Woolf's power, and charm, that she is able to move so easily between
these different cultural discourses - leaping if you will, "back to back"
between them, in an apparently effortless way.
Sometimes, admittedly, because of the speed with which she leaps, FOLLOWING her is not
always effortless; but it's always worth whatever effort it may require.
In any case, it's to that which we can now move.
In what follows, in part, I will explore what Woolf's text reveals about three
cultural notions - liberation, feminism, and androgyny. And I will try to indicate
something of how these inform both what the work means and how, like any very good work,
it remains relevant to contemporary concerns.



©
copyright 2005. Joel Rich. All rights reserved