Selected Stories By Virginia Woolf

by Virginia Woolf

on the eve of the battle of panipat, zahiruddin muhammad babur gathers his forces to fight the formidable lodhi sultan and regain hindustan, the land of riches that his ancestor temur once ruled. his confidence is boosted by his pride in the martial skills of his beloved son and heir, humayun. but little do the father and son know that their biggest threat lies not in the fields of war, but within the intricate web of relationships they have woven around themselves babur with his wives, who are constantly engaged in games of oneupmanship, and humayun with the alluring concubine sona. can babur really trust anyone, even those who are closest to him? will the mughals be able to defeat their enemies, both outside and within?

144 pages, Paperback

Published August 1, 2018

About the author

(Adeline) Virginia Woolf was an English novelist and essayist regarded as one of the foremost modernist literary figures of the twentieth century.

During the interwar period, Woolf was a significant figure in London literary society and a member of the Bloomsbury Group. Her most famous works include the novels Mrs. Dalloway (1925), To the Lighthouse (1927), and Orlando (1928), and the book-length essay A Room of One's Own (1929) with its famous dictum, "a woman must have money and a room of her own if she is to write fiction."

Reviews

[Ian A Holcomb · Rating 4 out of 5]

This is my first time reading Virginia Woolf’s work since I read Mrs. Dalloway roughly twenty years ago for my sophomore English class. Similar to Charlotte Brontë, Woolf is infinitely more enjoyable with additional life experience under my belt.

I know Woolf is considered a Modernist writer due to both the time period she lived in as well as her focus on interior monologues and use of stream of consciousness to depict each character’s inner world, but that inner world reveals her true, Romantic nature. She has a knack of turning mundane, everyday events into extraordinary inner thoughts using rapturous prose. My favorite use of this is in “the String Quartet” (also my favorite story of the bunch) in how the music makes her feel. It’s nothing short of euphoric to bask in her words.

She paints using every color imaginable, every flower, and her recurring use of the sky and stars shows her almost childlike fascination with her place in the universe and where she stands in such stark contrast to the London High Society where her characters find themselves. Common critiques that persist throughout her works are on societal expectations (“Solid Objects” and “The Duchess and the Jeweller” are actually great contrasts to one another on this front), keeping the stiff upper-lip, conforming one’s behavior, and staying with people who are not actually compatible because it is what’s society expects (“Lappin and Lapinova” and “The Legacy,” the latter being a shocking thriller I did not expect from Woolf). She also spends time highlighting the value of women having free agency (“The Lady in the Looking-Glass: A Reflection”), and even explores themes of human sexuality, something exceptionally brave for her time (“Moments of Being: ‘Slater’s Pins Have No Points’”).

All that said, some stories didn’t resonate with me as the ones I mentioned did, which is why I won’t give this five stars. I will absolutely come back to re-read these gems, though. I’m more excited now to read even more of Woolf’s body of work.

[Veysel · Rating 5 out of 5]

Virginia Woolf - Perili Ev
Evin içinde gezinirken, pencereleri açan ve bizi uyandırmamak için fısıltıyla konuşan hayalet çift neşelerini aramaktalar.
“İşte burada uyurduk,” diyor kadın. Ayrıca adam ekliyor: “Sayısız öpücük.” “Sabahları uyanınca.”
“Ağaçların arasından gelen gümüş rengi, üst katta, bahçede!” “Yaz gelince.” “Kışın kar yağarken.” “Kapılar çok uzaktan kapanmaya başlıyor, bir kalbin atışları gibi nazik çarpışlarla.
Giderek yaklaşıyorlar; kapının eşiğinde duruyorlar. Rüzgar diniyor, ay tozu grisi yağmur damlaları camdan aşağı süzülüyor. Gözlerimiz kararıyor, arkamızdan gelen başka ayak sesleri duymuyoruz, hayali pencerelerini açan bir kadın görmüyoruz. Adamın elleri fenere gölge yapıyor “Bak,” diye fısıldıyor adam. “Derin uykuda. Dudaklarında sevgi.”
Eğilip üzerimize gümüş lambalarını tutarak uzun uzun be derin derin bakıyorlar. Bir süre öyle kalıyorlar. Rüzgar esiyor birden ve alev hafiften kıvrıyor. Yerden ve duvardan çılgın ay ışığı hüzmeleri geçiyor ve yüzlerde birleşip gölgeler yaratıyor; düşünceli yüzler; uyuyanları yoklayan ve onlarda gizlenmiş neşeyi bulmaya çalışan yüzler.