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Book Description
Clarissa Dalloway, in her fifties, wife of an English MP, emerges from her house in Westminster one fine June morning to buy flowers for her party. And by that simple act she entwines her life with the lives of others who will hear, with her, Big Ben toll away the hours of their destinies that day.
"Clarissa's day captures in a definite matrix the drift of thought and feeling in a period, the point of view of a class, and seems almost to indicate the strength and weakness of a civilization." (The New York Times)
Groups with this in collection
BOOKAHOLIC! (826) | Best 100 books ever, according to 100 contemporary authors (19) | CONTIAMOCI (945) | Noi del Ghetto dei Lettori (7351) | Virginia Woolf (419) |
- Book Details
- English Books
- Rating:



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- Library Binding
- ISBN-10: 0613173880
- ISBN-13: 9780613173889
- Publisher: Bt Bound
- Pub date: Oct 01, 1999
- Also available as: Paperback, Hardcover and Audio Cassette
- In other languages:
Mrs Dalloway
(Livres Français)
Mrs Dalloway, German Edition
(Deutsche Bücher)
La Señora Dalloway
(Libros en Español)
Mrs. Dalloway
(Livros em Português)
Mrs. Dalloway
(llibres en català)
La signora Dalloway
(Libri Italiani)

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Ho fatto la tesi su di lei e sulla sua tecnica narrativa, lo Stream of Consciousness. Difficile, indubbiamente, ma bello bello bello!
I pensieri prendono vita, l'inconscio emerge sulla pagina in tutta la sua completezza, con i suoi conflitti e con le cose aberranti che possono caratterizzarlo.
Affascinante libro dalla tecnica incredibile, "flow of consciousness", in cui vivi la storia dalla testa della protagonista seguendo, appunto, i giri che il suo pensiero compie...
Tutto si svolge in una giornata intorno ai due protagonisti nei pressi di Regents Park a Londra: Clarissa Dalloway, moglie mondana del parlamentare conservatore Richrad Dalloway e Septimus warren Smith veterano traumatizzato e vittima della grande guerra. Il tempo trascorre implacabile al suono mono ... Continue
Tutto si svolge in una giornata intorno ai due protagonisti nei pressi di Regents Park a Londra: Clarissa Dalloway, moglie mondana del parlamentare conservatore Richrad Dalloway e Septimus warren Smith veterano traumatizzato e vittima della grande guerra. Il tempo trascorre implacabile al suono monotono del Big Ben che assume un significato assurdamente fallico. Tutto ci conduce ad una conclusione da incubo: la festa della signora Dalloway e il suicidio di Septimus. Questo è un romanzo di grandi contrasti tra uomini e donne, tra una persona e l'altra, tra ricchi e poveri, l'io e gli altri, la vita e la morte. Tutto è noioso, oscuro, indistinto. Non mi è piaciuto.
This is a really difficult one to read....you never know who is who, and who is talking in the story....I think I will challenge it again a year later....LOL
Non sono una grande estimatrice della scrittrice inglese, le sue letture, come quelle di Joyce, non sono semplici(entrambi hanno scardinato la letteratura moderna).
Questo romanzo mi è piaciuto, l'ho trovato affascinante e ricercato, la storia è banale ma i personaggi sono ben delineati e reali ... Continue
Non sono una grande estimatrice della scrittrice inglese, le sue letture, come quelle di Joyce, non sono semplici(entrambi hanno scardinato la letteratura moderna).
Questo romanzo mi è piaciuto, l'ho trovato affascinante e ricercato, la storia è banale ma i personaggi sono ben delineati e realistici.
Una lettura particolare che non consiglio a tutti.
I absolutely love Virginia Woolf: I’ve already read "To The Lighthouse", "Orlando" and most of "A Room of One’s Own" (I used it a lot when I was writing my graduation thesis on Janet Frame, as both authors felt the necessity to have a quiet place and enough “piece of mind” to write without too many ... Continue
I absolutely love Virginia Woolf: I’ve already read "To The Lighthouse", "Orlando" and most of "A Room of One’s Own" (I used it a lot when I was writing my graduation thesis on Janet Frame, as both authors felt the necessity to have a quiet place and enough “piece of mind” to write without too many worries). I love her “stream of consciousness” and how she portrays the inner life of different people, especially women, in their everyday actions. When I was in London I went in front of her house in Bloomsbury and took a picture, then sat in the nice park in the square just in front of it and ate my sandwich, wondering how many “deep thoughts” that place had heard from Virginia and her friends of the Bloomsbury group.
In Cunningham’s "The Hours" (and in the movie of the same name) there is a fictionalised version of Virginia Woolf in the period when she was writing "Mrs Dalloway" (and also in the period of her suicide, such a sad thing when it happens to an artist, don’t you think?). I think that the use of famous people, either dead or alive, as characters in novels (it’s becoming more and more common) reveals that the interior world of that particular person is something we still have an interest in. In this book, we don’t read about Virginia Woolf’s interior world, of course, but we learn about Mrs Dalloway’s thoughts and musings, which is quite satisfying anyway.
Given that it is quite impossible to say something on Mrs Dalloway that hasn’t already been said a hundred times, I just want to point out something that struck me. A recurring sentence in the book, which is actually a verse from Shakespeare’s "Cymbeline", says: “Fear no more the heat o’ the sun / Nor the furious winter’s rages”. Both Septimus Warren Smith and Mrs Dalloway utter this sentence over and over again. Moreover, it is used in Janet Frame’s Autobiography: when the author is in the mental hospital, she keeps on scribbling this sentence (I can recall the scene in the movie very well, because she writes the sentence on the walls of her room / cell). The three of them (Septimus Warren Smith, Janet Frame and Virginia Woolf) suffered from some sort of mental illness and my interpretation, at the time when I was reading Janet Frame’s book, was completely wrong. I thought that this verse was quite hopeful, a sort of encouragement to ignore the storms in your inner world and try to live your life happily, but I found out that it is quite the opposite. The line is actually from a funeral song that celebrates death as a comfort after a difficult life. Septimus’s life has become unbearable: he has lived the horrors of the war and lost many friends, thus ordinary life in post-war London is worthless to him. Clarissa reflects on the death of her friend and feels responsible for it. Was it the same feeling experienced by Virginia Woolf moments before she drowned herself, during the Second World War, when London was being bombed? Through Shakespeare’s words, nonetheless, Clarissa can finally accept death, something that had been troubling her for the whole day. There is therefore an optimistic side to this novel that is otherwise rather sad.
I acknowledge that with this novel Virginia Woolf found her voice: she describes everyday actions like buying flowers or eating dinner, showing that no action is too ordinary for the attention of a writer. Given that Virginia Woolf was writing the novel in the period when Sigmund Freud was publishing his theories on the subconscious and there was much interest in psychology, I can understand how fascinating the mind of a human being must have been for her. The author shows that our inner lives are always very rich, but they are separated from each other’s. Despite the fact that Clarissa throws parties in order to draw people together, they remain distant and struggle to communicate with each other. It is perfectly clear that people like Clarissa or Septimus are emotional and sensitive, they like to think a lot and to reflect about life, whereas other people like Richard or Lady Bruton are more materialistic. If you pay attention, for example, flowers are a recurring theme and certainly they are a symbol of emotions and a rich inner life. In the book people treat flowers differently: Clarissa is comfortable with flowers and in the first section she is buying flowers for the party, whereas Richard handles the conventional bouquet of roses awkwardly and gives them to Lady Bruton, who lays them stiffly by the plate.
There is so much more to this novel and I’m sure it needed more attention and at least a reread (sometimes it was difficult for me to deal with the shifts of point of view, but I guess that’s the inconvenience of the stream of consciousness).