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The Waves
The Waves - Spine 2012
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Discussion - Week Two - The Waves - Section 3 & 4
The children (now young adults) find Percival the most attractive, perhaps even the most perfect, personage in their world. He is the "Beauty" that all other things beautiful must compare. And, by comparison, fall short of the ideal. Percival stands alone and above all others, and even though he is idealized, "loved and hated" together (as louis put it in part two) he is what all else must find at least a particle of in themselves or sink into the "ugly." The children now seem to have given up on Percival, still admire him, but are more and more in these two parts comparing themselves to each other, and polishing their own required sense of beauty with perceived flaws of others. I say polishing as in using those flaws like sand paper. I think this is typical of young adults. Nothing really new in this. But Woolf really digs deep into their psyche to point it out.
It bothered me at first that Percival never speaks, is not part of the "dialogue." I see now that it isn't necessary. Percival doesn't need words. He only needs to exist, at least in the minds of the six characters.
Mod
He definitely seems to fill the role of some kind of ideal; maybe alpha male, hero, or as you say "Beauty". You're right, he doesn't need to speak. Woolf's decision not to give him his own soliloquy certainly adds to his mystique and iconic power.
The bit about India seems to also cast him as a representative of England's colonial "activities".
And Percival was the reason of why they're still together, maybe that's why the circle described by Louis (the relationship between Percival and the 6 friends) had broken when Percival decided to go to India.
I was curious about Percival myself so I went back and read through all the sections that discuss or even mention him (that I could find through section 4).He is not mentioned at all in the first section. He is only discussed (thought about) by Neville and Louis in the second section. Barely discussed in the third section and then, of course, is at the center of section four.
From what I can gather of physical description, Percival has a straight nose, blue "oddly expressive" eyes (Nev. p 35), "He is heavy," and walks clumsily (Louis p 37).
More about Percival: he is sporty and plays cricket (section 2). There is something violent about him. Neville (p 35) says he would be a good churchwarden, "he should have a birch and beat little boys," and calls him, "brutal [verbally blunt?] in the extreme." (p 39) Bernard describes him "using the violent language that is natural to him."
He seems carefree, if somewhat ignorant. Neville says "he cannot read" and that he (Nev) could not "suffer his stupidity." (p48) Although, Neville also thinks that Percival is intuitive: see p 48 & p 71.
He is an unwitting leader followed by the "small fry" (Nev. p35, Louis p50, Bernard p122) and by our little group of six. Louis says, "His magnificence is that of some medieval commander...look at us trooping after him, his faithful servants." (p 37) Later, at the good-bye dinner Bernard likens the six to "soldiers in the presence of their captain." (p123) Rhoda says, "He is like a stone fallen into a pond around which minnows swarm." (p 136)In some sense Percival is an empty vessel but he is also a kind of magnet.
His presence has weight. "He breathes...rather heavily" (Nev. p 35), "He is heavy" Louis p 37, "And then we all feel Percival lying heavily among us" (Nev. 38).
It seems mostly that Percival's description is reflective of whomever is describing him. He is brought into relief by Neville's love, Louis' jealousy (and he is maybe somewhat of a muse for Louis..."for it is P. that inspires poetry), Bernards' stories. We learn about the characters (esp. Neville) from (how and) what they think of Percival. Almost everything said about Percival is an impression or a projection.
By section four he seems to personify the invisible bond between the six. Do they call it love, Jinny asks, "Love for Percival?"
I am haunted and impressed by Neville's final image of "we...who...loved Percival" standing in the street, in the night, under the street lamp while Percival leaves. (I wonder if this is somehow connected to Louis' statement early on that "A wake of light seems to lie on the grass behind him." This struck me as a "shadow" of light and I'm not entirely sure how to interpret it, but I liked it.)
This may be totally reading too much into it, but in a way Percival feels like absence in the face our characters' incredible presence.
Erika wrote: "I was curious about Percival myself so I went back and read through all the sections that discuss or even mention him (that I could find through section 4).He is not mentioned at all in the first..."
Thank you, Erika, for this comprehensive summary of Percival's influence on our six. It seems to me that Neville in particular is spellbound by Percival's power. Could his love for Percival be a romantic love?
Neville certainly thinks about Percival more often than any other character does. He seems to always be waiting for Percival, announcing his arrival, describing his minute gestures, trying to catch glimpses of P, and doubtful that P will return his feelings. Seems like infatuation or romantic love. And at one point Neville says he can't talk to Bernard about Percival, "I cannot expose my absurd and violent passion..." p51.
Sorry to be so long winded in my previous post. As I continue to think about it, I think what I want to say is simply that I think Percival is what the six make of him: leader, beloved, hero, god. But there are also hints that he is really just a rather normal young man: athletic, well-liked, good-looking.
Erika you have put a lot of thought into Percival and I, too, thank you for the summary. I agree that Neville is especially attracted to P. But I didn't get the sense that it was sexual. I felt it was more his naivete. Percival doesn't appear to care what others think of him. I am reminded of a Downs Syndrome boy I worked with years ago who was much the same, happy, playful, totally unaffected by peer pressure. It was his child-like existence that was so charming and compelling to everyone, and he was 17 years old at the time! There is a certain innocence attached to Percival in the minds of the children that they, themselves seem to envy. What do you think?
Hi Linda, I do think that Neville has a love for Percival that is more than the love of friendship. I agree with you that Percival himself seems oblivious to it. And so it is rather one sided. Neville seems to understand that his love will not be reciprocated and so I don't think it takes a particularly sexual tone, but rather, one of idealized love. (which is perhaps just one layer of the overall idealization of percival)I just re-read Neville's soliloquies on pages 51 & 60. I think Neville's thoughts in these passages begin and end with Percival, "the one."
I love this swoony passage from Neville (when Percival arrives at dinner) on page 122, "Now...my tree flowers. My heart rises. All oppression is relieved. All impediment is removed. The reign of chaos is over. He has imposed order. Knives cut again." Knives cut again!!
Mod
Sexual or not, Neville has strong feelings for Percival. Woolf had been in a relationship with Vita Sackville-West for many years by the time The Waves was published. I imagine some of Neville's feelings may find their source in Woolf's own same-sex relationship. I haven't read Woolf's biography or letters, so I don't know the exact nature of their relationship.
Jim wrote: "Erika wrote: "Hi Linda, I do think that Neville has a love for Percival that is more than the love of friendship. I agree with you that Percival himself seems oblivious to it. And so it is rather o..."Yes, Jim, and certainly in Woolf's milieu same-sex relationships were not uncommon.
Erika wrote: "Hi Linda, I do think that Neville has a love for Percival that is more than the love of friendship. I agree with you that Percival himself seems oblivious to it. And so it is rather one sided. Nevi..."The language that Woolf uses for Neville indicates that there is more than just a great platonic relationship here. Neville's thoughts are intensely romantic, whether he realizes it or not, but not sexual in nature. And I think these thoughts and feelings date back to their time in school together. I also agree that Percival is oblivious to these feelings.
Erika wrote: "...Percival himself seems oblivious to it."Yes! Percival is oblivious to everything going on with the rest of them. He's so removed from the interwoven relationship that he doesn't even bother to share his thoughts with us. He seems quite self-absorbed!
"Catherine wrote: "...but not sexual in nature."
So far, the only romantic contact we've seen has been the kiss between Jinny and Louis. Perhaps they are still too young to have sexual feelings. Or at least they're too young to recognize their feelings as such.
I am not so certain that Percival is oblivious as that he can't imagine doing anything but denying sexual implications. Anything else would be totally out of character, it is so ingrained. (Now maybe that is what "oblivious" can mean!)
It is pretty hard to know what Percival thinks or imagines, but I agree with you Lily that Percival would most likely deny (or ignore) any sexual advances, but I sort of think that Neville might know that (?). I don't think he's been forward with Percival. Neville can't even tell Bernard about his feelings about Percival. We, as readers, are privileged with Neville's thoughts and it's possible that we may know much more about this than anyone else...
This line from section 3 particularly struck me: "...which of these people am I? It depends so much upon the room. When I say to myself, 'Bernard,' who comes?"I wonder what you all make of Bernard.
Bernard is certainly a strange fellow. He doesn't seem to be able to finish anything and flits around from project to project. I remember in part one or two (can't remember which) where the kids enjoyed his story telling, but something about how the story never ended and the kids got bored. They got bored, I think, because Bernard didn't have an ending, only an abstract pretend memory that has no purpose other than entertainment and self indulgence. I sincerly doubt that Bernard gets anywhere near goal in life, partly because he doesn't see it clearly (like he never saw the end of his stories clearly) and partly because he is interested in the end product, not in the work it takes to get him there.I also think Bernard is so self absorbed that he contemplates only his own belly button. Whatever surrounds him (and his belly button) exists purely for him.
First of all, thanks to Jim for some mad moderator skills. I am embarrassed to say that I hadn’t heard of The Waves before Brain Pain, but now I am in love. I don’t know if I have ever liked a book more for forcing me to read and savor it so very slooowly! Erika wrote: "This line from section 3 particularly struck me: "...which of these people am I? It depends so much upon the room. When I say to myself, 'Bernard,' who comes?"
I wonder what you all make of Bernard."
Erika - I think this is quite an important bit. It speaks to the question that has come up already of whether these are six individual characters or six facets of the same entity. I feel that in The Waves, humans and their relationships are like water droplets in the ocean: both e pluribus unum and e unibus pluram. Woolf uses tons of beautiful water/circle/ring imagery of individuals separating, coming together, and separating again, to create a constantly shifting mosaic of various united groups and solitary moments. And here, Bernard shows how many can be contained even within a single person.
Mod
Thanks Rachel!
It's true, many people go straight to Mrs. Dalloway, Orlando, and maybe To the Lighthouse, by which time, they've kind of had enough and move on. The Waves may not be her most popular, but as Bill said in an earlier post, in this book, she really sings!
RE: Bernard, what most caught my attention is his self-acknowledgment that with an audience to serve as a catalyst, the words and stories flow. Alone in his room, however, nada! A very lonely thought...
Bernard, what most caught my attention is his self-acknowledgment that with an audience to serve as a catalyst, the words and stories flow. Alone in his room, however, nada! A very lonely thought... ."Jim, I agree. Thus, as Linda said, he's never able to finish anything.
He's similar to Jinny who also needs others to feel comfortable and successful.
Rachel wrote: "It speaks to the question that has come up already of whether these are six individual characters or six facets of the same entity..."I think it’s fair to say that the (or at least a) dominant theme of the book is how individual identity is affected by others, or to what extent it exists apart from others. Bernard expresses this most often, and Percival is usually the one against whom others are compared; “without Percival we are silhouettes, hollow phantoms” as Neville says. In contrast, Bernard states that the “authentics” Louis and Rhoda exist most completely in solitude.
Given the primary metaphor of waves, the same questions come up. How much does an individual wave really exist apart from the rest of the sea? Also interesting to see how the waves are changing at the beginning of each interlude, as was touched on in the discussion of the preceding sections. Initially close together and gentle, “sighing like a sleeper” when the characters are children, “thin and swift” in the university days, and warlike and “muscular” when the characters are in their early 20’s and Percival departs for service.
Given the primary metaphor of waves, the same questions come up. How much does an individual wave really exist apart from the rest of the sea? "Very nicely put.
[Possible spoiler] And what of this image of the women carrying red pitchers to the Nile? I found six references to it in the text, all by Louis.
Mod
Whenever he mentions them, he also talks about his roots reaching down into the earth, so what I got from that was when he is experiencing his feelings of being an outsider (Aussie in England), he reminds himself that his soul and true self goes beyond the surface appearance of the moment - he believes in and values his roots.
Or something like that...
Jim wrote: Whenever he mentions them, he also ..."How might Louis, an insecure Aussie in London, be rooted in women drawing water from the Nile? There's the connection with water of course, and the color-symbol of red (the pitchers are always red) - angst? strength? earth? But how else might he relate?
Mod
Good questions. I was picturing a connection to the ancient past. The Nile as a holy river, as one of the cradles of civilization, water as the source of life. Red as earth or clay. Maybe Louis is imagining our shared ancestry. In his mind, perhaps using that shared past as a defense or palliative against his feelings in his present-day encounters with the native Brits.
Nancy wrote: "Jim wrote: Whenever he mentions them, he also ..."How might Louis, an insecure Aussie in London, be rooted in women drawing water from the Nile? There's the connection with water of course, and..."
A lot of Europeans how have felt rooted in ancient Egyptian culture in the 19th century, it was believed to be the cradle of humanity or at least the Western civilization. This might seem a bit strange to us today, but Egyptology was really taking off in the early to mid 19th century as a consequence firstly of Napoleon's campaign in Egypt then of the British administration. Most of the big Egyptian art collections (such as the British Museum one which is considerably bigger than any collection held by Egyptian museums) were established around this time, a lot of books and plays were written about Egypt, etc. - it would have been something very present in popular culture in Britain and France. There's a lot about this in Said's Orientalism.
Wikipedia also tells me that Americans used to identify themselves with Egypt quite a bit because Egypt was used as a model for racial segregation in the US in the 19th century, but I'm not sure how accurate that is.
About the kiss ... dunno if you've ever thought about this, but until we actually see somebody kissing in a romantic way in the movies or read of it in a book, how do we actually know how to kiss?Is it something we'd do naturally - say a boy and girl were born and left on an island by themselves. Say they grew up there - fed by animals or something -like in Clan of the Cave Bear ... would they instinctively kiss in the way a human couple does?
Just me thinkin', I guess - something like wondering if the light stays on in the fridge when you close the door.
Mod
..."
Good question. Or if a boy and girl were brought up in a home where no one kissed them and no one kissed in front of them, maybe they wouldn't think to kiss. It's something they'd have to experience and/or observe to figure out... or maybe the light does stay on?
Carly wrote: "About the kiss ... dunno if you've ever thought about this, but until we actually see somebody kissing in a romantic way in the movies or read of it in a book, how do we actually know how to kiss?..."Carly -- well, different, yes, but consider the nursing child.
Erika wrote: "This line from section 3 particularly struck me: "...which of these people am I? It depends so much upon the room. When I say to myself, 'Bernard,' who comes?"I wonder what you all make of Bernard."
Does it seem in character that Bernard seems to be the first one that we know to be engaged? (I would have probably placed my bets on Susan or even Jinny, although I would have expected Jinny to have broken hers already, if she had been first.)
Mod
Bernard does seem to be the most gregarious, so probably in character. He also seems to be the most in need of contact with others. He often talks about his disagreement with the idea of separation between people, and so most likely to want to form a union.
Lily wrote: "Does it seem in character that Bernard seems to be the first one that we know to be engaged? ..."Yes, since Bernard constantly states his need to have others around, he would be the first to grab for a 'captive audience'. Susan was close behind, which goes with her very grounded attitude toward land, children etc. I think Jinny loves playing the socialite too much to tie herself down very early. I am looking forward to seeing what happens to Jinny as she gets older, as she defines herself so much by her physical beauty and her effect on men.
Dang it, I really need to start refreshing just before posting, as I always seem to be one step behind Jim.
Mod
At least we're thinking in the same direction! Great minds, etc...
Can anyone help me understand what Susan means when she says "What I give is fell."? (p 98 Harcourt edition) I'm confused by this line. Is fell a noun (skin, hide of an animal) or adj (cruel)? or is there another definition I'm missing? (I think she uses the word more than once, but I can't find the second instance at the moment.)
Whitney wrote: Given the primary metaphor of waves, the same questions come up. How much does an individual wave really exist apart from the rest of the sea?This question of Whitney's has stuck with me. Bernard uses the word "non-identity" in section four. It seems like there are three characters for whom "non-identity" is part of their "identity": Bernard, Rhoda, and Louis.
Bernard needs his friends, his community, or just crowds to feel buoyant and alive. He has no ambition but to add more words to the sea of words. He doesn't want to individuate.
Rhoda talks of being no-one, being faceless, she is solitary and alone.
Louis says he is the accumulation (reincarnation) of many lives. "I am not, " he says, "single and entire as you are. I have lived a thousand lives already." (p127)
Erika wrote: "Can anyone help me understand what Susan means when she says "What I give is fell."? (p 98 Harcourt edition) I'm confused by this line. Is fell a noun (skin, hide of an animal) or adj (cruel)? or ..."This line confused me a bit as well. I took it as an adjective, but I don't feel confident about that interpretation. I did a search and found two other quotes up until section four with "fell" in connection to Susan. Both of the following seem to use "fell" as an adjective, but I still don't feel entirely clear on the ways in which Woolf employs the word:
Jinny says, in section two, "Susan's head, with its fell look..."
Rhoda comments in section four, "how fell, how entire Susan's glance is, searching for insects at the roots!"
P.S. I would give page numbers, but I'm not using the recommended edition.
Ashley wrote: "Erika wrote: "Can anyone help me understand what Susan means when she says "What I give is fell."? (p 98 Harcourt edition) I'm confused by this line. Is fell a noun (skin, hide of an animal) or ad..."I think in this case it's used in the sense of fierce / dangerous. Like her association with crystal, the others see her as a hard person. At one point Louis says that to be loved by Susan would be like being impaled on a bird's beak or nailed to a barnyard door (yikes!)
I felt it was the adj meaning cruel/fierce/dangerous. Thank you both! My problem was that though Susan so clearly loves & hates she doesn't seem particularly cruel to me...though maybe fierce....Whitney, but isn't it interesting that our stoney Louis says, "Yet there are moments when I could wish to be speared by a beak, to be nailed to a barnyard door, positively and once and for all." (!!)
Erika wrote: "but isn't it interesting that our stoney Louis says, "Yet there are moments when I could wish to be speared by a beak, to be nailed to a barnyard door, positively and once and for all."..."Yes, that is a particularly striking passage from Louis! Perhaps he finds his self-imposed social repression a little constricting?
Mod
I can't locate the passage you're referring to in your edition. Can you let me know the first few words of her soliloquy and which character speaks just prior to the passage? I'm using a Penguin paperback, so no nifty electronic searching for me!
I located an additional definition for fell:
n. a hill or stretch of high moorland, esp in Northern England ex: an area of fell and moor
Maybe this might make sense in the passage you're looking at.
Jim wrote: " can't locate the passage you're referring to in your edition..."Jim it's roughly 3/4 of the way through section three. It's in Susan's long soliloquy that begins, "Now that the wind lifts the blind...", middle of the third paragraph.
The definition you found is interesting, especially in relation to Susan.
Mod
Jim it's roughly 3/4 of the way through section three. It's in Susan's long soliloquy that begins, "Now that the wind ..."
Thanks! I'll look for it tomorrow - off to dinner now...
Andreea wrote: Wikipedia tells me that Americans used to identify themselves with Egypt...It's true that Egyptian culture is a popular theme in the US, especially among children who have grown bored with dinosaurs, but I wasn't aware that Americans used to identify with it beyond the general "mummies are cool" aspect.
Perhaps Louis is referring to his many reincarnations. And perhaps this is the stamping on the shore that he hears - the weight of a thousand lives.
Erika wrote: "but isn't it interesting that our stoney Louis says, "Yet there are moments when I could wish to be speared by a beak, to be nailed to a barnyard door, positively and once and for all..."This is a great bit! I felt like this comment was referring back to the sun interlude where Woolf is describing the oozing of rotting fruit and the birds pecking at worms. "Now and then they plunged the tips of their beaks savagely into the sticky mixture." Ew.
[I have no page numbers, but this is at 23% or Location 728 on my Kindle edition]
Nancy wrote: "Perhaps Louis is referring to his many reincarnations. And perhaps this is the stamping on the shore that he hears - the weight of a thousand lives. "Yes, Nancy, I agree.
Jim, I wondered if you could expand your response to Lori's comment from the Sections 1 & 2 thread: 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.
Brain Pain
Books mentioned in this topic
Orientalism (other topics)Mrs. Dalloway (other topics)
Orlando (other topics)
To the Lighthouse (other topics)
Okay, things rapidly become more complicated!
Section 3:
Interlude – The sun rises higher still as we reach mid-morning. Light penetrates the waves and fish appear. More birds are in the garden now, alert to the world around them and responding more to their environment and each other. The smells and creatures of the damp earth attract them. The sun again penetrates the windows and transforms all it touches. The wind rises and we end with a vision of men armed with spears.
Soliloquies – At college now, we begin with pages-long speeches by Bernard and Neville. At times, their exchanges verge on direct dialogue. Percival looms larger in Neville’s world. We move on to Louis, alone now in a crowded restaurant, among the masses he believes to be beneath him. Susan continues her communion with the earth and its creatures. Jinny, dressed to the nines, cavorts with the people of the night. Rhoda slips in, does what she can to remain unseen, and is besieged by tongues and leaping tigers.
Section 4:
Interlude – The sun is up and suddenly we’re given references to war – specifically, the Zulu war – by the second mention of the assegais, a spear used by South African warriors. The songs of the birds have changed, more frenetic in sounds and motions. Everything becomes brighter and more intense.
Soliloquies – Bernard arrives in London, bewildered by the rush of life he finds in the streets. Neville arrives early for the reunion, anxious to see Percival arrive. One by one, the others appear, until finally, Percival arrives – Percival who is going to India. In their excitement, they revisit their early days together in school and their language becomes simpler and excited. They contemplate each other as they are now. Brought together again, they are united again, at least for a short time. But as they sense their bonds, they quickly sense they are temporary and will not last past this moment – “But now the circle breaks.”
What is being communicated in the Interludes beyond the description of the light and sounds?
Are the soliloquies functioning more like dialogues now?
What part does silent Percival play in their story?
To avoid spoilers, please restrict your discussion to Sections 3 and 4 (and also the first two sections).