Brain Pain discussion

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The Waves
The Waves - Spine 2012
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Discussion - Week One - The Waves - Section 1 & 2

I've always assumed it was VW's own time period, which would have made it the 1880s. Does anything conflict with that? A great many members and associates of the Bloomsbury group were born 1879-1885, Virginia was born 1882.

Jim"
Sorry! And thanks! (I am rather spoiler immune, I'm afraid, although I intend to be careful for those who aren't.)
Bill wrote: "Jim asked about the time period.
I've always assumed it was VW's own time period, which would have made it the 1880s. Does anything conflict with that? A great many members and associates of the B..."
It seems likely that the time period would match Woolf's own childhood/youth. Would make it easier to draw on her own experiences growing up.
I've always assumed it was VW's own time period, which would have made it the 1880s. Does anything conflict with that? A great many members and associates of the B..."
It seems likely that the time period would match Woolf's own childhood/youth. Would make it easier to draw on her own experiences growing up.
Bill wrote: "And I like spoilers. Always feel free to tell me what happened if we're not reading thrillers. :-)"
It was Colonel Mustard, in the conservatory, with a candlestick...
It was Colonel Mustard, in the conservatory, with a candlestick...

And by the way, world -- it doesn't end up well for Hamlet and Ophelia. So there.

Sorry I've been a while getting back. By context I mean the time in which she was writing, the literary and cultural influences on her, the people around her who may have influenced her (in whatever way), her education/educational aspirations, etc. This is what I had in mind when I spoke of "context".

While I have only read the first section so far, it seemed to me that Bernard takes it upon himself to be included in each of the characters actions. In the beginning of the section where he runs after Susan, he initially makes the claim that is was to make sure she was okay, however after stating his claim for following he goes into a long explanation as to his appearance. While he goes on to attempt to distract Susan's mind I couldn't get past the fact that he had to talk himself up in a way before caring about another.
To me Neville is the most interesting character. I didn't really take notice of him until the part where he had an hour of solitude while the others walked. In the earlier parts of the section it seemed as though Neville was a type of character where people just see him as a part of a group, but the eye merely passes across him since there seems to be no distinguishing factor to set him apart. However, after seeing him become alienated from his group my eyes opened up a little more towards his character. His separation allowed him to be exposed to a lifestyle that the others seemed to be sheltered from for instance his soliloquy about the dead man in the gutter and the vivid images he created seemed to allow the reader to see inside his mind and character a little better than earlier in the section.


Regarding the (probably now considered dead horse) issue of rhythm in language, the discussion made me think of Ted Kooser's book "The Poetry Home Repair Manual" where he discusses the use of rhythmic language to suggest movement, quoting the opening line of Richard Wilber's "Juggler":
A ball will bounce, but less and less.or 11-Century Chinese poet Su Tung-p'o:
Long rapids drop steeply, waves leap up;Kooser goes on to suggest the approach of the artist to how deliberate can be with effects, yet not grinding themselves to a halt by trying to squeeze such meanings into every possible corner, thus choking out the natural impulse forward for both author and the reader alike.
the light boat shoots south like a plunging shuttle.
For me, Woolf is a brilliant writer who manages to balance that wave (can't stop myself) without falling off better than anyone.
Concerning the intense language of the children, this isn't an especially deep thought, but it reminder me that often people's emotions and internal, unvoiced ideas are often FAR more elegant and eloquent than their linguistic ability to compose it to others can bear. Also, it reminded me of the kinds of internal narratives that Terrence Malick uses in his films routinely, making me wonder how much influence Woolf had (if any, I'm clueless here) upon him, although considering his education, he must have at least a firm passing knowledge of her works.
Lastly, I just want to thank everybody involved in this group for both bringing this book up to read, and for all your interesting comments. It deeply and meaningfully enriches my life!

I've paraphrased your words, Will, but want to say I really appreciated their insight and quite agree.

And each truth which we profess to have blends with what actually is happening. Of course, it can get very convoluted, but that stream of consciousness that goes on in our minds is almost more real and influential than the facts or recounting of an incident, because of how we all color it.
Lori wrote: "Reading these sections made me start questioning what I believe is the truth and what others do. Because of the voice or stream of consciousness in the writing, we hear what each character thinks ..."
Good question - collective truth. What's "actually" going on versus how each individual perceives events. Then it gets even more complicated when we 'compare notes' in our discussions with each other. An interesting scene is coming up in Section 4, which we'll begin discussing tomorrow. Group perception and recollection mixed with the passage of time. An amazing piece of writing!
Good question - collective truth. What's "actually" going on versus how each individual perceives events. Then it gets even more complicated when we 'compare notes' in our discussions with each other. An interesting scene is coming up in Section 4, which we'll begin discussing tomorrow. Group perception and recollection mixed with the passage of time. An amazing piece of writing!

The nature images, those painful macro close-ups of organic matter are breath-taking. I am faintly reminded of Atwood's 'Surfacing', especially the latter parts of the novel when the narrator suffers an identity and communication loss.
It seems to me that Woolf's prose has always fought against the confines of language. It has always wanted to burst forth and become pure emotion unfettered by phrase or phonic.
As I read on and catch up with you guys I'll have a better idea of the different 'voices' and the interludes that Woolf chooses to put at the beginning of each chapter.

It seems so interesting to me (as a reader of other languages) that in English literature, with a few exceptions, linguistically innovative writers seem to be described as writing against language as though they're wrestling with language, rather than writing within language, try to built and perfect it. Somehow this writing "against language" implies a kind of aggression of language which Romance languages don't have. It's quite strange and I feel like I might be generalizing too much. I personally never thought of Woolf as writing against language, but within it in a more poetic register which instead of trying to appear artificial was actually aiming for a natural poeticness and rhythm of language. Maybe it's useful to see Woolf together with Joyce and Proust who were both preoccupied with transforming language but while Joyce is (often) seen as a destroyer of the English language, Proust is (often) seen as somebody who perfected French, Virginia Woolf herself explained their differences as:
My great adventure is really Proust. Well—what remains to be written after that? I’m only in the first volume, and there are, I suppose, faults to be found, but I am in a state of amazement; as if a miracle were being done before my eyes. How, at last, has someone solidified what has always escaped—and made it too into this beautiful and perfectly enduring substance? One has to put the book down and gasp. The pleasure becomes physical—like sun and wine and grapes and perfect serenity and intense vitality combined. Far otherwise is it with Ulysses; to which I bind myself like a martyr to a stake, and have thank God, now finished—My martyrdom is over.
(source)
We're especially lucky as a group because very soon we'll get to read both Proust and Joyce and see how they handled language.
Andreea wrote: "It seems so interesting to me (as a reader of other languages) that in English literature, with a few exceptions, linguistically innovative writers seem to be described as writing against language as though they're wrestling with language, rather than writing within language, try to built and perfect it. Somehow this writing "against language" implies a kind of aggression of language which Romance languages don't have. It's quite strange and I feel like I might be generalizing too much. I personally never thought of Woolf as writing against language, but within it in a more poetic register which instead of trying to appear artificial was actually aiming for a natural poeticness and rhythm of language. .."
I won't speak for Zee, but think that maybe she means fighting against the confines of the grammatical structures of written English. I'm not a linguist, but I do know that the rules of English grammar at times can feel constricting to the writer. English is an irregular, polyglot language which can, at times, tie the tongue of the speaker and the writer. When I read French, Italian, or Spanish in English translation, I often sense that the English is somehow restricting and distorting the original music and poetry of the writing. I especially feel this phenomenon when I read Italo Calvino.
I won't speak for Zee, but think that maybe she means fighting against the confines of the grammatical structures of written English. I'm not a linguist, but I do know that the rules of English grammar at times can feel constricting to the writer. English is an irregular, polyglot language which can, at times, tie the tongue of the speaker and the writer. When I read French, Italian, or Spanish in English translation, I often sense that the English is somehow restricting and distorting the original music and poetry of the writing. I especially feel this phenomenon when I read Italo Calvino.

There is the difficulty writers feel, filled with emotion and ideas, that their expression is always just beyond reach.
The America poet W. S. Merwin wrote a short poem called, appropriately, "Poem"
Coming late, as always,
I try to remember what I almost heard
The light avoids my eye.
How many times Have I heard the locks close
And the lark take the keys
And hang them in heaven.
And I understand as well language feeling a crude tool to achieve subtle effects. The abstract nature of language (as opposed to a painter's palette), can make words hard to wrangle.
I understand the notion of using words in a way that elude conventions, even conventional meanings, which risk total obscurity. The poem must work powerfully on the sense to make it worth getting into the ring and wrestling meaning from it.
The old seraph, parcel-gilded, among violets
Inhaled the appointed odor, while doves
Rose up like phantoms from chronologies
-- Wallace Stevens, Notes Toward a Supreme Fiction
But Virginia Woolf simply performs with the apparent ease of a prima ballerina.

"L'Académie française, also called the French Academy, is the pre-eminent French learned body on matters pertaining to the French language...The body has the task of acting as an official authority on the language..."
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Acad%C3%...
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_...
Note that English is not on the list as having a language regulator.

It struck me as Woolf's thesis statement, if there could be one, for the book.
This is Bernard speaking.
"My book will certainly run to many volumes embracing every known variety of man and woman. I fill my mind with whatever happens to be the contents of a room or a railway carriage as one fills a fountain-pen in an inkpot. I have a steady unquenchable thirst. Now I feel by imperceptible signs, which I cannot yet interpret but will later, that his defiance is about to thaw.
So much of this book is preoccupied with the tension between the individual and the environment. I think this displays well what it means to be living and writing about the setting in which a person lives. And more basically, it is Woolf's most self-conscious moment to describe the purpose behind her writing the book.
Stephen M wrote: "So much of this book is preoccupied with the tension between the individual and the environment. I think this displays well what it means to be living and writing about the setting in which a person lives. And more basically, it is Woolf's most self-conscious moment to describe the purpose behind her writing the book..."
And also between the individual and other individuals. The many comparisons they make make about each other and how those comparisons help define their sense of identity.
And also between the individual and other individuals. The many comparisons they make make about each other and how those comparisons help define their sense of identity.

I think the problem is more in the sound of English than in its grammar. English grammar is one of the easiest grammar to learn because there are actually very few variables (e.g. nouns are not declined, verbs don't have douzens of different forms depending on the tense, no nonsense about gendered words, etc.) but at the same time this lack of variableness makes it hard for English to sound good/poetic because it's hard to find rhymes. It's even thought that it's possible that there are more words in English which don't have a rhyme than words which do (read this article if you're interested in the issue). Maybe we don't think that much about the importance of rhyme nowadays because we're so used to blank verse poetry, but it's still something worth considering.
Lily wrote: "My thoughts on this conversation go to remembering that English is a language without an "academy" responsible for its "purity".
"L'Académie française, also called the French Academy, is the pre-e..."
I don't want to fall in the trap of another generalization, but although Romanian has a language regulator which periodically updates dictionaries, punctuation and spelling rules, I've never met a Romanian speaker who proudly called themselves a 'grammar nazi', but I've met plenty of English speakers who proclaimed their linguistic purity loudly to everyone, all the time (rest assured, I've heard many people say very idiotic things about minority languages and what they do to the Romanian language so don't for a moment think that Romanian speakers are that nice, they're just, somehow, not that hung up on grammar). I dunno, language 'purity' is still very much a class thing everywhere, at least in my experience. Also, although it might seem that it's the other way around, English has much harsher/definitive grammar rules because what's been practiced so far is very often regarded as the incontestably correct usage whereas in Romanian, the Academy periodically changes rules about 'correct usage' to update the language. Not that most of their updates are that significant, it's just, for example, a matter of writing 'nicio' instead of 'nici o' and there still are publications which defy the Academy's decision to replace 'î' with 'â' which was taken back in 1953 and nothing happens to them. It's not like anybody's going to come and arrest you if you don't write the way the Academy says you should write.
Andreea wrote: "English grammar is one of the easiest grammar to learn because there are actually very few variables (e.g. nouns are not declined, verbs don't have douzens of different forms depending on the tense, no nonsense about gendered words, etc.) but at the same time this lack of variableness makes it hard for English to sound good/poetic because it's hard to find rhymes. .."
Yes, I think this is more what I was trying to say. Finding the rhymes and music in English is sometimes difficult.
I suppose there's no official academy, although this the Modern Language Association does seem to try and work with issues of usage, and so on: http://www.mla.org/
I think most people look to the Oxford English Dictionary as a kind of "authority" for spelling, definitions, and etymology. I don't know how it works in the UK, but in the US, people seem to have no problem changing the language as they see fit and creating verbs from nouns at will - like "gifting"...
Yes, I think this is more what I was trying to say. Finding the rhymes and music in English is sometimes difficult.
I suppose there's no official academy, although this the Modern Language Association does seem to try and work with issues of usage, and so on: http://www.mla.org/
I think most people look to the Oxford English Dictionary as a kind of "authority" for spelling, definitions, and etymology. I don't know how it works in the UK, but in the US, people seem to have no problem changing the language as they see fit and creating verbs from nouns at will - like "gifting"...

On the other hand, the different languages have different characteristics and the particular, excellent expression of a writer in one language may not be easily transferred to another. The words have such a different feeling. Robert Frost once defined poetry as "what gets lost in translation."
But there's no writer I'd trade for Shakespeare.
To return to Andreea's original comment:
She was originally commenting on English writers saying they are "writing against the language." As I said, I think all writers struggle with the limitations of language per se but I don't understand writing against the language either.
I think there is no problem in writing musically in English if by music you mean meter. A great deal of the time, people fall into a naturally iambic meter, sometimes anapest. I was reading Moby-Dick and there are whole paragraphs which could almost be rendered as blank verse.
I think rhyme is absolutely a problem. As Andrea was suggesting, languages where were typically end in vowels -- 8 as opposed to 26 -- or repetitive endings with declensions are much easier to rhyme.
There is also the frustration, noted by Auden, I believe, as familiar to anyone who's tried to write rhymed verse, that the third person singular verb is defined by an "s" while plural nouns are defined by an "s".
She smiles and curtsies, showing off her bow
She basks in their applause, because she know s
That's a repetitive problem.
But that's limited to poetry written in verse forms which require rhyme. A great deal of English poetry before the 20th century is written in blank verse. And then the demands of rhyme are less onerous when you consider slant rhymes and off rhymes. And some verse forms require less rhyme, like ballad which is abcb -- easier than abab.
(On the other hand rhyme can be an inspiration -- how can I make the line work beginning with this word which rhymes and fitting the words to it. One can arrive at an expression one wouldn't have come to any other way.)
So I don't think that explains Virginia Woolf's comment because she did not write rhymed verse.

Perhaps this is just taking it lightly, but I thought into prayers was morning prayers (or afternoon, or evening as the case may be) often conducted in religious schools. It seemed this further characterizes Jinny as someone who thrives on attention (and she is quite self-aware), in fact, the need for the pleasure she gets from it seems so compulsive that she would even pirouette into the chapel for most solemn act of the day.
Jinny seems always to be floating to me. Like a brilliant star adrift in the night. It seems like her only purpose is to shine.

Love it! Erika, you illustrate why it could be fun to discuss this almost line by line, like poetry. I had totally missed the idea of prayer as a place, e.g., the chapel!


It's an interesting notion that words actually limit our ability to communicate. We don't always have the words to express our true nature. By giving us the thoughts in their heads, Woolf is giving us an insight into their true intestions, their true feelings, their true selves. But by putting those thoughts into words on the page, isn't she by default limiting our understanding of them?

I loved this passage. Our understanding of the three girls gets much deeper here: "Jinny and I with Rhoda following after." Susan is clearly the bond between the other two.
In this passage we learn that Susan hates her life so much that she screws the calendar page into a tight ball. Jinny is only interested in seeing herself whole, dancing. And Rhoda is so unsure of herself that she hides behind Susan so that she has no face. (Rhoda reminds me of Janet Frame, by the way.)

Perhaps the stamping is the pressure he feels of living in a world where he thinks he doesn't belong, as if he might be trampled by the weight of the waves, the endless progression of life.
Nancy wrote: "Perhaps the stamping is the pressure he feels of living in a world where he thinks he doesn't belong, as if he might be trampled by the weight of the waves, the endless progression of life. ..."
That's a good take! Weight, pressure, like the image of a beast stamping on the sand, but also that pressure we feel in our heads when we're angry or frustrated and our heartbeat increases, the noise of our own blood pounding in our ears.
That's a good take! Weight, pressure, like the image of a beast stamping on the sand, but also that pressure we feel in our heads when we're angry or frustrated and our heartbeat increases, the noise of our own blood pounding in our ears.

I think she does give each, even Rhonda, places of confidence.



I think she does give each, even Rhon..."
Lily, I think confidence and doubt (the formation of identity?) really play into sections 3 & 4. Should we talk about it on that thread? I'd love to hear your thoughts on some of the quotes that come to mind!

Erika, thanks for clearing that one up. I kinda figured they were expressing their thoughts without actually talking TO each other but by speaking their thoughts aloud so we the readers can know them from the inside, Quite a stroke of genius on Ms. Woolf's part. How do you guys feel about these characters? Am I nuts or do the ladies ahve serious self-esteem issues? That's what I gathered.
Edward wrote: "Am I nuts or do the ladies have serious self-esteem issues?"
The three female characters are fairly distinct from each other. I'm not sure about their self-esteem, but here's what I'm reading about them so far:
Jenny seems the most confident with her body and her sexuality. She seems to very much occupy her physical self and is aware of her body's effect on others.
Susan seems the least happy with "civilization". She does not like clocks and chimes and linoleum floors. She misses the earth, its smells and the rhythms of nature.
Rhoda appears to be uneasy in most social situations and I sense at times she would very much prefer to be invisible. She suffers from what you might classify as a social anxiety disorder. She also feels the lightest and least attached to her physical self and somewhat ungrounded and unsure of herself.
The three female characters are fairly distinct from each other. I'm not sure about their self-esteem, but here's what I'm reading about them so far:
Jenny seems the most confident with her body and her sexuality. She seems to very much occupy her physical self and is aware of her body's effect on others.
Susan seems the least happy with "civilization". She does not like clocks and chimes and linoleum floors. She misses the earth, its smells and the rhythms of nature.
Rhoda appears to be uneasy in most social situations and I sense at times she would very much prefer to be invisible. She suffers from what you might classify as a social anxiety disorder. She also feels the lightest and least attached to her physical self and somewhat ungrounded and unsure of herself.


The three female characters are fairly distinct from each other. I'm not sure about their self-esteem, but here's what I..."
It might just be my San Franciscan perspective (or maybe I've watched Avatar: The Last Airbender too much with my kids) but I sort of roughly associate Jinny with air, Susan with earth, and Rhoda with water.

Lessee ...
http://inventors.about.com/od/lstarti...
1860 ... didn't ya' just hate the smell of that stuff?

Erika, can you say where this impression came from? In section 4 (spoiler alert?) Bernard describes his friends in association with stone (Louis), crystal (Susan), flame (Jinny), and water (Rhoda), close to what you're saying. (P.S. I loved the Avatar: TLA series, and think it's pretty cool that it's came up in a V. Woolf discussion :-)
Carly wrote: "I'm hanging in here with this book, but I gotta be honest - I don't like it much."
Hang in as best you can. Hopefully it will pay off for you by the end!
Hang in as best you can. Hopefully it will pay off for you by the end!

Ooooo, interesting! I hadn't thought of them that way. Been out of Berkeley too long, no question.
Jinny is also associated with a fair bit of fire imagery in these sections:"I should like a fiery dress, a yellow dress." "I should like a thin dress shot with red threads that would gleam in the firelight."

I don't find it easy -- but I do have a sense it is something I could fruitfully read at least three more times in the relatively short number of years left of reading I face. (Relative to the ones I have enjoyed -- don't intend to quit any time soon!) It is the sort of book I wish I had first read at 30 or younger.
Part of the stretch for me is the prose-poetry mode. I have already asked a friend who writes poetry and loves the sea and its waves if she will consider reading at least a few pages when I have finished. It has been difficult enough to me that I couldn't begin to ask her to read the whole thing as a recommendation up front! But, if it captures her imagination....
Certainly a lot different than reading War and Peace. (For the rest of you, Carly and I moved through W&P together a few years ago.) In fact, some of the spots of humor for me are when Bernard slips into writing "standard" story line description/prose.
Carly -- thanks for the link on linoleum!
Oh, yes, Carly, a question? Can you put additional words to "I don't like it much"? (I'll struggle with articulating my feelings more cogently in the meantime.)

Carly, I hope you hang in. The book is a tough read. Most of the time I can read fairly quickly through books; I have a Masters degree in theology so I've read tons of tough material. But this book I've had to read in bits and pieces. Its as though my mind will only take in so much at a time before it says..."Hold on...time out!" I read a little every day.
Books mentioned in this topic
The Well of Loneliness (other topics)Orlando (other topics)
The Waves (other topics)
Orlando (other topics)
Jim