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Virginia Woolf

A Writer's Diary

An invaluable guide to the art and mind of Virginia Woolf, “A Writer's Diary” was drawn by her husband from the personal record she kept over a period of twenty-seven years. Included are entries that refer to her own writing and those that are clearly writing exercises, accounts of people and scenes relevant to the raw material of her work, and finally, comments on books she was reading.
Adeline Virginia Woolf (25 January 1882 — 28 March 1941) was an English writer, and one of the foremost modernists of the twentieth century. During the interwar period, Woolf was a significant figure in London literary society and a central figure in the influential Bloomsbury Group of intellectuals.
434 печатни страници
Притежател на авторското право
Bookwire
Оригинална публикация
2017
Година на публикуване
2017
Издател
Musaicum Books
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  • Leenaсподели впечатлениепреди 4 години
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    This is my second time reading this book. Each time I read this book, I am in an awe of the life of Virginia Woolf lived despite all her struggles. She had her struggles with mental health but she lived an incredibly productive life. The diary clearly shows the other side of her that she is not known of. She was just a melancholy and moody sort of person but an incredibly creative, witty, and at times, hilarious. Without her diaries, we can never know that other side. This is an incredible book - highly, highly recommend.

Цитати

  • LiterariaLetterцитирапреди 8 месеца
    Saturday, April 12th.

    These ten minutes are stolen from Moll Flanders, which I failed to finish yesterday in accordance with my time sheet, yielding to a desire to stop reading and go up to London. But I saw London, in particular the view of white city churches and palaces from Hungerford Bridge through the eyes of Defoe. I saw the old women selling matches through his eyes; and the draggled girl skirting round the pavement of St James’s Square seemed to me out of Roxana or Moll Flanders. Yes, a great writer surely to be there imposing himself on me after 200 years.
  • LiterariaLetterцитирапреди 8 месеца
    if one’s own ease and interest promise anything good, I should have hopes that some people, at least, will find it a pleasure. I wonder if I shall ever be able to read it again? Is the time coming when I can endure to read my own writing in print without blushing—shivering and wishing to take cover?
  • LiterariaLetterцитирапреди 8 месеца
    , if one is to deal with people on a large scale and say what one thinks, how can one avoid melancholy? I don’t admit to being hopeless though: only the spectacle is a profoundly strange one; and as the current answers don’t do, one has to grope for a new one, and the process of discarding the old, when one is by no means certain what to put in their place, is a sad one. Still, if you think of it, what answers do Arnold Bennett or Thackeray, for instance, suggest? Happy ones—satisfactory solutions—answers one would accept, if one had the least respect for one’s soul?

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