Yet To

What a strange medium: unread, unseen, yet giving me a strange satisfaction...

Eating My Words

I’m compelled to retract my statements, not unwillingly. Mrs. Dalloway isn’t inscrutable anymore. On the contrary it makes utter sense, in such an unusual, dazzling way that I’m awed. It flows with a flourish yet doesn’t explain itself easily, but now, having read into it with more insight and information than at that first helpless reading, I am pretty convinced Woolf was pure genius. I insist I’ve not been too severely influenced by critics and commentators, but all that reading did put things in a context. The book’s a good read. It’s an even better second read.