[Virginia Woolf] ò A Writer's Diary: Being Extracts from the Diary of Virginia Woolf [anglo-saxon PDF] Read Online Ü This was glorious I ve underlined great things on nearly every page If this is what Virginia Woolf could produce when sitting in bed and simply writing an expansive version of a dear diary , it tells us something about her genius she calls it a dialogue of the soul with the soul It is the best I ve read by Woolf so far It is immediate, intimate, relatable than what I ve read by her before It is packed with thoughts and feelings and metaphors and meaning.
I m slowly wading my way through Virginia Woolf s body of work and, by extension, through the intricacies of her brain and her sensibilities It is not an uncomplicated liaison when I read her fiction, I occasionally glance around during the reading process, appreciating bits here, doubting othe Virginia WoolfOn January 1, 1953, Leonard Woolf completed his Preface to A Writer s Diary, a compilation of extracts from the 26 volumes of diaries that Virginia Woolf wrote from 1915 until 1941, with the last entry written just four days before her death This book was published before the five volume set of Woolf s diaries that is still in print today Leonard Woolf makes it clear that, especially since so many of the people whom Woolf wrote about were still alive at the point, it was important for him to avoid publishing the personal diary entries Instead, Leonard Woolf selected excerpts that focused especially on Virginia Woolf s writing about writing, fiction as well as criticism There s something very powerful about reading through Woolf s characterizations of her writing process Reprint Of Edition Exact Facsimile Of The original Edition, Not Reproduced With Optical Recognition Software An Invaluable Guide To The Art And Mind Of Virginia Woolf, A Writer S Diary Was Collected By Her Husband From The Personal Record She Kept Over A Period Of Twenty Seven Years Included Are Entries That Refer To Her Own Writing And Those That Are Clearly Writing Exercises, Accounts Of People And Scenes Relevant To The Raw Material Of Her Work, And Finally, Comments On books She Was Reading The First Entry Is Dated And The Last, Three Weeks Before Her Death In Between These Points Of Time Unfolds The Private World The Anguish, The Triumph, The Creative Vision Of One Of The Great Writers Of Our Century scritch scratch scritch scratch dash scritch scratch scritch scratch semi colon scritch scratch scritch scratch inkblot the trusty nib flounders a moment then wades through the puddle of ink and on to the end of the lineto the end of the pageto the end of that year s diary and though it flounders sometimes along the waythe trusty nib keeps on scratching through the diariesuntil half way though the last it flounders finallyNow for The Longer Review and apologies in advance.
Reading a diary is like being in a room with someone who thinks they are alone And even though they think they are alone, and feel quite safe talking to themselves aloud, we see them glance in the mirror from time to time to see how they look when they are speak A Writer s Diary, unlike Woolf s fiction beautiful though, is an easy book to read One can see what she has lived through from 1918 to 1941 The book is aptly titled it is primarily about words, mind, books, artists, writing, and how these myriad things at once possess and liberate a sensitive soul like hers There are a few things, among many other, that particularly make me stop and reflect to know her better What one immediately recognizes in her work, even when her work is not really understood or only partly read, is the brilliance of mind that is at work In her diaries entries, we glimpse that mind She comes across as someone who is wholly immersed in words, drawn to them immensely Life seems to have no meaning if one cannot give shape it through words to express her becoming Such an extraordinary ambition could be li I have to wonder at my timing on this one Here I am, picking up one of the most perfect books for spurring the self on to writing during the merry month of NaNoWriMo, only to finish in the midst the most recent surge of action in the great Gr debacle a debacle wholly embittered by the concept of self published authors Now, I d like to go the traditional rout of publishing myself, but still It gives both this review and my dream of writing for a living an air of antagonism, watch your step mince your words or be misunderstood severely.
Or that could be me thinking too much.
But see here, though, that s what this whole work is all about Thinking about writing, and when the person doing the thinking is Woolf, well One hesitates to define one s principles about the too much thinking My copy of A Writer s Diary I tried to post a photo, but Goodreads just couldn t deal with whatever it was I had to offer has a forest of little tags poking out from the side All the passages I ve marked As a writer, I move between despair and joy on a daily basis A good day of writing leaves me scoured clean and refilled with peaceThere is some ebb and flow of the tide of life which accounts for it though what produces either ebb or flow I m not sure but the stress of rejectionandof praise is such an invasion of the external world into my inner equilibriumthe worst of writing is that one depends so much upon praise One should aim, seriously, as disregarding ups and downs a compliment here, silence thereThe only way to right the imbalance is to shut out the world and offer myself up to the page To sit and write until my limbs are stiff, my e
A full review to come.
It has arrived However most of the, Likes, below referred to a quote of Woolf s in an update status I entered Then using the magic of my technical skills I lost Sad A period of web mourning, yet it appeared again in the review below.
What we have here is a reviewer who has been kidnapped I m sure it will be in tomorrow s papers But how to get out to write the review Is there anything here to use to be resourceful Only words More words They mount threatening to crush me as they form before me into ideas, a life Am I inside of a diary How strange But do I want to escape These words and ideas around me, covering me, are brilliant They are honest Touching them, their touching me, they glitter with the glowed wand of creative light It is escape that would be containment This is where to be.
She writes What sort These diary entries brim over with life, with hunger, with a passion that cannot be contained, with the conflicted need to absorb it all the lonely walks in the Sussex countryside, the visual and sonorous chaos of life in the city, of incessant travel, mental and otherwise, the unstoppable flow of time, the transience of things, the galloping rhythm of emotions, sensations and the simultaneity of memory, past and present in one s conscience, the tedium of discussions and routine, the truth about daily life without embellishment Virginia sat at her desk and wanted to condense it all into poetry and leave out whatever that was superfluous She never rested She pushed herself to the limit, squeezed out her mind and existed fully only when she was writing Writing as a means of being She became inebriated by the exuberance of words and was carried away by the