To the Lighthouse

Took me maybe 50 pages to figure out how exactly to read this but once I did it became one of the most effortlessly beautiful books I've ever read. Woolf is able to magnify the space between sentences, where every gesture, stifled look, awkward fidget is an ocean of expression. And what's left is what's never said to the ones we love most. Wonderful!

This book club pick was my second Virginia Woolf, and since I'd read Mrs. Dalloway several years ago, I at least had some idea of what to expect stylistically going into it. And that's the point, really, with Virginia Woolf anyways, that stream-of-consciousness style. It's certainly not plot, as not much happens here. The book is divided into three sections: in the first, the Ramsays, a large family with eight children, are at their home in the Hebrides off the coast of Scotland and discuss whether or not they will take a trip to the local lighthouse the next day as they host a dinner party with many of the friends that have become a part of their orbit. In the second, ten years pass (coinciding with the years of WWI) and a handful of deaths occur. And in the third, several but not all of the characters from the first section reunite at the house, and the long-delayed trip to the lighthouse occurs. It is, naturally, not “about” the plot at all. It's about people, and Woolf takes us straight into their heads to give us a chance to see them from the inside. I found it particularly effective during the dinner party, because the anxieties being experienced by the various participants about whether they should have come at all or what they're going to say, or if they've just said the wrong thing entirely, feel so relatable even nearly 100 years later. She's often sharply witty in her observations of relations between men and women, highlighting the ridiculousness of male plays for female attention. I found her curiously minimalist on the subject of The Great War, though, mentioning it only through the death of one of the characters in combat. It seems odd that she just kind of glides past it, though maybe she felt she'd already said what she wanted to say in Mrs. Dalloway. As much as I get what she's doing with the stream-of-consciousness choice, I have to admit I find it something less than enjoyable to read. It requires so much active attention and is rarely really worth the reward. It's a good book, very much worth reading and something I liked, but the style is best in very small doses.

FINALLY!This was one of those reads that feel like being forced to eat something, you chew and chew and it grows in your mouth, a mass of something you need to swallow and you just can't... I kept reading and reading and there was always the same amount of pages left to be read. A nightmare.Nothing happens in this book. 300+ pages about nothing. I would give this book one star, had it not had its moments. Some of the things were said very beautifully. Some sentences made me feel and think about things. But I hate it. I don't want to read another Virginia Woolf in my life. I loved [b:Orlando 18839 Orlando Virginia Woolf https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1443118010l/18839.SY75.jpg 6057225] and [b:A Room of One's Own 18521 A Room of One's Own Virginia Woolf https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1327883012l/18521.SY75.jpg 1315615], but that isn't enough. Anyway, this book can be divided into three parts. The book opens with James Ramsay, a toddler or so, 4-5 (Don't know, don't care), wanting to go to the lighthouse, but his father says no because it will rain. The rest of the first part is basically his mother's thoughts about things, with inserts from others. Then we have an interlude about the house, some 10-15 years or something. (Don't care to find out.) War happens. People die. The house is empty, abandoned, and slowly deteriorating. Then we have the second part, the family comes back to the house. Mrs. Ramsay has died, and we get the POV of the other characters. Her place is empty, but somehow she's still there. And James gets to the lighthouse. I don't feel my life has been in any way enrichened by reading this book. I don't care about any of the characters. I was irritated by “her Chinese eyes”. (One of the characters has “Chinese eyes”, whatever that means. I can't help but think it's racist. I assume they are black, small, and slanted. I think Virginia said something like that. sigh (Again, can't be bothered to go back and check. I hate this book so much, I'm just relieved I've finished it. Now I know it wasn't worth reading.)

What a beautiful book. Woolf writes prose like poetry and the subject matter is so personal. Ill be honest, it took me almost 80 pages to really get into it but once you get into the rhythm of it, its such a kind and giving book.

Woolf talks about nature of reality, love, death in the most beautiful way. And all this is done in such a mundane setting too. Its a story about you and me. Not heroes and villains and journeys. Its about human relationships and regular people.

I've always believed every person has a rich internal experience and this book does a brilliant job of encapsulating that.

A masterpiece. Perfection. Had to pause and take stock of life after finishing.

Everything; every description, every character, every relationship - basically every word - works both on its own level and as a symbol for something else.

Not the easiest read in the world but the quality of the prose carries it through.

Already looking forward to future rereads.

Loved this a lot, which surprised me. I mean I read A Room of One‰ЫЄs Own which didn‰ЫЄt do much for me and Mrs. Dalloway which I only really liked because it reminded me of Lord Peter Wimsey, but then I don‰ЫЄt think I paid much attention. (I also read Orlando but that was ages ago and I remember nothing except Tilda Swinton on the cover.) Is it crazy to say that here Woolf reminds me a lot of Thomas Pynchon? Fewer songs and dirty jokes but a similar swinging swirling narration through characters and perspectives, with oodles of compassion and understanding and more sentiment than you might think. I wish I had read this Virginia Woolf sooner.

Difficult for me to get into. The book was, to me, more about the writing and language than it was about the characters or the story. I almost wanted to quit on it, but I'm one of those people that can't put down a book once I've picked it up. I wish I could get past that. I've been reading a lot of modern fiction, so perhaps I just wasn't ready for it. I'll give it another listen before returning it to the library.