I suspect this is going to be another long read. I’m just a short way in and already a couple things are bothering me about the novel. While Woolf undoubtedly spins wonderfully rich descriptions and metaphors, they don’t really add to the story. They “prettify” the prose and I can only assume the authoress is trying (with a heavy hand) to create a dream like quality and “flow of consciousness” sort of style. That’s the generous interpretation. Less charitably, I think she’d rather be writing poetry and lacks conviction to a coherent plot and engaging/substantial characters.

Yes, I’m a literary meanie, so there.

Dear Virginia,

Stop obsessing about the length of a little boy’s trousers and try instead to make the boy believable or relevant.

Pronouns are nice and useful, but you use them with such gusto that sometimes I’m not sure WHO we are talking about from among nebulous array of characters.

Yours Truly,

Grumpy Reader