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The excerpt represents the core issue or deciding factor on which you must meditate, and is drawn from To the Lighthouse by Virginia Woolf: lost consciousness of outer things, and her name and her personality
and her appearance, and whether Mr Carmichael was there or not, her
mind kept throwing up from its depths, scenes, and names, and sayings,
and memories and ideas, like a fountain spurting over that glaring,
hideously difficult white space, while she modelled it with greens and
blues.
Charles Tansley used to say that, she remembered, women can't paint,
can't write. Coming up behind her, he had stood close beside her, a
thing she hated, as she painted her on this very spot. "Shag tobacco,"
he said, "fivepence an ounce," parading his poverty, his principles.
(But the war had drawn the sting of her femininity. Poor devils, one
To the Lighthouse |
