Status Updates From Rumo ao Farol

This second part is more difficult and I'm taking some time to read it at a slow pace.

So I keep stepping on these landmines of deaths the further I walk into this chapter.

“sun-lanced waters”

In a reading slump 😔 but trying to get out of it. I LOVEEE this book.

The time passes section is so beautiful and transformative and so full of grief wow I’m loving this book so much

I don’t know why but Virginia’s words are not seeping into by brain. Reading this feels like a stroke, yet enjoyable

“Crepuscular” is, like, the grossest-sounding word. But it means something quite beautiful.

“She saw his anger fly like a pack of hounds into his eyes, his brow, and she knew that in a moment something violent would explode, and then – thank goodness! She saw him clutch himself and clap a brake on the wheel, and the whole of his body seemed to emit sparks but not words.”

I just want to live inside Virginia Woolf’s words 🥹

Battling though but also now loving

I’m noting how everyone who is guessing what someone else is thinking seems to be hitting the nail on the head every time. Unlikely in real life.

“a disreputable old bird”

New retirement nickname unlocked

Brooding is a good word for ALL of this.

Hate to say it but I’m finding this one painful hard to get through… had to start another book to ensure I don’t enter a reading slump

El segundo capitulo es acojonante

sad boy hours!

train reads

is it normal to not understand a single freaking thing that’s happening

Of course it was French. What passes for cookery in England is an abomination (they agreed). It is putting cabbages in water. It is roasting meat till it is like leather. It is cuttintoff the delicious skin of vegetables

Woolf knows best

DNF - Beautifully written but I genuinely didn’t feel intelligent enough to read it.

[blockquote] But what I have done with my life? thought Mrs. Ramsay [/blockquote]

Same queen!!

“She was off like a bird, bullet, or arrow, impelled by what desire, shot by whom, at what directed, who could say? What, what?”

Well. There’s my next bio right there.

This is so chaotic for some reason. I had an easier time reading Jane Austen… the V.E. Schwab series I brought is calling my name

“'Do you write many letters, Mr. Tansley?' asked Mrs. Ramsay, pitying him too, Lily supposed; for that was true of Mrs. Ramsay—she pitied men always as if they lacked something—women never, as if they had something.”

You know, all of this is just making me grateful that we all don’t walk around with detailed subtitles trailing behind us of every egotistical thought, bizarre inclination, and unsolved puzzle going through our heads.

Also God sees and understands all those invisible subtitles, even when we don’t.

Imagine God’s subtitles.

still recovering from the reading slump sociology has put me in... slowly getting thru this

"She looked up over her knitting and met the third stroke and it seemed to her like her own eyes meeting her own eyes, searching as she along could search into her mind and her heart, purifying out of existence that lie, any lie. She praised herself in praising the light, without vanity, for she was stern, she was searching, she was beautiful like that light. It was odd, she thought,

"She could see it all so clearly, so commandingly, when she looked: it was when she took her brush in hand that the whole thing changed. It was in that moment's flight between the picture and her canvas that the demons set on her who often brought her to the verge of tears and made this passage from conception to work as dreadful as any down a dark passage for a child.

This was my 3rd attempt at reading this book & I’m going to finish it woo !!

Maybe Caro from Surprised by Oxford was reading Virginia Woolf while initially crystallizing those acerbic opinions about men