Virginia Woolf

reading journals

Virginia Woolf. Excerpt from Three Guineas - In 1791, nearly a century before Virignia Woolf was born, Olympe de Gouges wrote in Article XIII of her "Declaration of the Rights of Woman and Citizen": "For the maintenance of public forces and administrative expenses, the contributions of women and men shall be equal; the woman shares in all forced labor and all painful tasks, therefore she should have the same share in the distribution of positions, tasks, assignments, honors, and industry" (151). Hardly surprising, Woolf echoes these same unaltered sentiments in Three Guineas.In the successive articles de Gouges goes on to plea for the right for women to hold office and to own property. But there is a fundamental and troubling question which de Gouges seemingly ignores...how is the woman to get there with no right to education? Woolf takes on this perpetually unresolved quandary in the three essays she writes in response to requests for donations for various organizations, to which she donates one guinea each, about the equivalent of twenty-one shillings (twenty shillings = one pound note). The first letter addresses the request of a lawyer for patronage, who as a man, oddly asks a woman what is to be done to stop war. The letter is importance for its call for a "disinterested influence" and its presentation of Woolf's desire to adopt an "outsider" status, her "platform and badge of honor" (xvi). Its primary focus is the lack of education for women, while men are spending 300,000,000 pounds annually upon arms. The letter primarily addresses the failure of women to progress due to patriarchial strongholds on education, finances, religion, etc. that have clung rigidly even with the passing of the Victorian era. Unwilling to simply hand out money without educating her audience, she raises several questions of her own, including how are patriocentered societies to ask uneducated women to help prevent war?--"How in your opinion are we to prevent war?" (emphases added). Indeed, how? Borrowing the term from William Makepeace Thackeray's The History of Pendennis, she cites Arthur's Education Fund as a strong culprit in the restriction of women from education (a crude fact Mary Wollstonecraft also criticizes a century before Woolf's birth). Woolf criticizes the restriction of women from occupations (they are permitted to the Bar, but their roles are comprised; she cites the rejection of women in the clergy and the military; she addresses the same complaints that de Gouges makes regarding the so-called prostitution of women's bodies as their sole form of "successful" manipulation--she sees three categories of women: working women, daughters of public-school educated men, and daughters of noblement (the "Sirens"). . .as for the latter, she writes, "For many of us would prefer to call ourselves prostitutes simply and to take our stand openly under the lamps of Piccadilly Circus rather than use it [using wiles to cajole and manipulate men in order to gain their desires]" (Three Guineas Harcourt, 1938 15).

This first letter was interesting to me because as I was reading the piece, I was also reading Susan Sontag's Regarding the Pain of Others, in which she criticizes Woolf's interpretation of war photographs. Woolf deems that these photographs should incite pity among the media's audience, to coerce them to stop fighting. In contrast Sontag sees these as potential instigators of further violence and destruction and bloodshed, as the viewer reflects on the pictures, demanding revenge. She also emphasizes Woolf's refusal "to allow her interlocutor to take a 'we' for granted" (7), which drives Woolf to dissect the system that has prevented women from participating in the prevention of war, a man-made tool of imperialism and domination.

The second letter focuses on women and occupation (without education, and without funding for education, what occupation is open to them?). She begs the question why are professional women's organizations so poor although Whitaker's Almanac shows four figure incomes for most professions? The answer is obvious, of course. Woolf writes, "To earn 250 a year is quite an achievement even for a highly qualified woman with years of experience" (44). The hierarchical structure of British employment is yet relegated to male domination. She also cites women's lack of pay in the household (again, echoing de Gouges); although they share the workload, laboring in the domicile, they do not share the benefits of equal pay: "the person to whom the salary is actually paid is the person who has the actual right to decide how the salary shall be spent" (57).

The third letter calls for women to remain outsiders, non-signers. She also criticizes those feminists who are apt to celebrate small victories too soon, including the right to vote. She accuses women of not using the vote to their advantage, to enable them to earn their living; in A Room of One's Own, Woolf alleges that all a woman needs to write is a room of one's own and an allowance of 500 pounds a year (for her early twentieth century era). During this time, women were barely averaging half of this pay. Criticizing this celebration brought on by the right to vote, she writes: "The word 'feminist' is the word indicated. that word, according to the dictionary, means 'one who champions the rights of women.' Since the only right, the right to earn a living, has been one, the word no longer has meaning. And a word without meaning is a dead word, a corrupt word. Let us therefore celebrate this occasion by cremating the corpse. Let us write that word in large black letters on a sheet of foolscap; then solemnly apply a matc to the paper. Look, how it burns! What a light dances over the world! . . . the word 'feminist' is destroyed; the air is cleared; and in that clearer air what do we see? Men and women working together for the same cause" (101-02). Woolf's seemingly scathing murder of the term "feminism" is truly nothing more than a burial. For Woolf, if feminism restricts women to one miserly freedom, and offers no means for expansion and the pursuit of ALL freedom, the word is indeed moot, dead.

Also interesting here is her analogy of patriarchal tyranny is to woman as fascism is to democracy, a marriage of domestic domination to its equally oppressive global domination. I love Woolf.
Berenice A. Carroll. "To Crush Him in Our Own Country": The Political Thought of Virginia Woolf." (1978) - I was immediately attracted to the prose of this piece--entirely fascinating, but without the pretentious density that comes with so much feminist and postcolonial criticism and theory. Carroll's citations of Leonard Woolf's, Quentin Bell's, and R.L. Chambers' claims that Woolf was non-political as a person and as a writer almost made me chuckle. Considering her frequent criticism of imperialism, which, as Carroll notes, Woolf criticized in such works as The Waves, Between the Acts, and Mrs. Dalloway, and Three Guineas' tirade against war and lack of female education and position in the workplace, Woolf embraces the hypocrisy of British politics, only to tear it from its foundations and expose its underside to her readers. Carroll draws attention to Woolf's literary mastery of concealing her views and withdrawing attention, creating a veil of indifference and weaving a sabotage that awaits interpretation by astute feminist readers. I was also intrigued by Carroll's depiction of The Years as the book that was "to break ground for Three Guineas" (103). Granted, Woolf could not predict the success of the reception of The Years, but I mulled over this, half-wondering if Woolf had been brilliant enough to pen The Years for solely the purpose of promoting Three Guineas.
Most upsetting to me was R.L. Chambers critique of Woolf and her politics. Although a 1955 text (which provides the context for his ignorant remarks), Chambers grossly misreads Woolf's novels (and although I haven't read any other reviews of his work regarding Woolf, I'd be doubly upset if I found out that Carroll's piece was the first critical response to his book, 23 years later). Alleging that she uses India as a "drop-scene," Chambers completely overlooks Woolf's manipulation of Percival in the text. His blunt, materialistic, Adonis-like physicality is the center of the flower, holding the six petals, the six identities of the novel, together. And when this physicality shatters, not in battle, not defending his country, but on a playful horseride, Woolf exposes Percival and his perpetuation of imperialistic rule as a worthless and wasteful endeavor (in other British modern pieces we see the same sense of abused power, when "spinsters" are trucked off to those deployed in India in a final desperate attempt to find them husbands). He also overlooks Carroll's assertion that "in the more mature works, there is hardly a word without significance, and that significance is often a well-concealed political message" (105), a claim of which Joyce used to boast.
Carroll also points out Woolf's claim in A Room: "the instinct for possession, teh rage for acquisition which drives them to desire other people's fields and goods perpetually . . . to offer up their own lives and their children's lives" (107), a return to Wollstonecraft's argument, although here in an imperialist light, of England's primogen. laws and the sacrifice of the younger children for the benefit of the eldest. One moment in Carroll's argument made me question . . . she recalls Sir William Bradshaw, the corrupt "physician" of Septimus Smith in Mrs. Dalloway, as an interloper to Dalloway's class. Nouveaux riche, perhaps we could call him. How does this function in the novel, the fact that he has propelled himself to an upper class, only to turn out as corrupt as those of Dalloway's class? Or is this the point? I am curious to know (or at least hear some hypotheses). And I am curious why Carroll doesn't include the figures of Rhoda or Jinny or Susan from The Waves . . . they are each severely oppressed . . . Susan domestically, Jinny sexually, and Rhoda emotionally. Is there no political commentary to be made here? This would be an area I might be interested in researching (does Rhoda's trauma become a reaction to the political?).


Ibid. "The Politics of Origianlity: Women and the Class System of the Intellect." (1990) - I thoroughly enjoyed this article. The opening claim, that "originality" is an imperialistic tool used to create a psychosomatic hierarchy, drew me to think of the hierarchies perpetuated in many intellectual regimes, including some areas of feminism (through the fractured gaze of the Third World Woman). The division of the classes, (1. "great" male thinkers (and a scant few women of the "dominant race"; 2. their lackeys; 3. male and female research "assistants" and perpetual promoters of the first group; and 4. all the rest), which Carroll assesses in the 1990 article, existed in Woolf's time and is continuing today. Woolf made note of this hierarchy and its effect on women and labor in Three Guineas, where she divides the daughters of noblemen from the daughters of public school father; the "sirens" from the working class. Carroll constructs the less tangible scheme behind material oppression; the intellectual oppression which she dissects becomes a reflection of the monetary and materialized labor, wage, race, and gender discrepancies. This disparity is one perpetuated still, 15 years after Carroll's article; today, many literary journals mainly accept articles branching from the works of the great thinkers....Derrida, Foucault, Deleuze/Guattari, Bakhtin, etc. But what new theory has arisen in the past decade? Why so many anthologies dedicated to the great, dead, white, male thinkers? (it's not as if this problem is relegated to the white world...there is, for one example, the immortalized Homi Bhabha of the postcolonial set) Where are the women theorists? The fresh minds not fostering yet another "widely accepted" and published view?
Steven Goldberg's words mimic those of Charles Tanley ("women can't write, women can't paint"), a line that seemingly haunts Carroll as she constructs her argument against this continuing affliction on women (one in which women are often complicit). The destruction of female writing (to which we were introduced in the partially remaining works of Sappho in our reading last week), to me, is wrought out of fear. Every semester, I teach "The Lottery" by Shirley Jackson, a story most noted for its violence and small town hypocrisy. But few critics note Jackson's portrayal of Tessie as a woman complicit in her own downfall, a supporter of the stoning until she is chosen; her attempt to sacrifice her own daughter in place of herself; her failure to recognize confinement to her domestic role (represented in her apron); the chants of the other women for Tessie to stop moaning and accept her lot all are indications of woman's complicity in her own subjugation. I spoke with a professor a few years ago, regarding writing a paper on symbol in myth, choosing Pandora. He asked me if I'd ever thought of the piece as an element of the male's fear of the woman....woman is not to reach into her box, for then, if she did so, and had a good time doing it, what use for men would there be? He said that in so many words....but I began to apply this fear to the myth of Eve, to Helen, to Pandora...all instigators of the downfall of man. To Tessie Hutchinson, who is not allowed to reach into the box...the man draws for the family. And Tessie does not object. Sappho's supposed celebration of same-sex love, too, would be a similar threat to men. Without their women quiet and satisified in submission, who would compose that third and fourth class of which Carroll writes?
Carroll writes of biographers of successful and innovative women, men who claim that the women's work is only "derivative" . . . women are "expostiors" and "systematizers" . . . again, this harkens to the previous article and Bell's and Leonard Woolf's claim that Virginia's work was largely unpolitical, of Quentin Bell's claim that Woolf's connection of misogyny and fascism was "wholly inadequate" (119). That Woolf should equate the two modes of oppression could not be innovation...it must be purely the rantings of an irrational mind. Why this barrage of criticism against women thinkers? Is it fear? Of abdication? "Wherever women have made a mark in social theory, it seems, the mark must be erased as quickly as possible with the same ritual dismissal, expressed again and again in the very same words: 'She was not an original thinker'" (141). (Merton's comments that Darwin "would have been glad to yield priority to [another]" (148) is bogus...rumors have existed for decades that Darwin's assistant was responsible for "Darwin's major discoveries," for which Darwin took credit). This game then becomes an edenic fight to "bring about something new and hence to 'change the world'" (153) by becoming godlike. Hence, imperialism.

Finally, Carroll's quote that invention should be (and is in cultures outside of the white, male, individualistic scrabble for superiority and immor-(t)ality) "interactive, egalitarian, social vision of hte process of creative change of ideas, not unusual in the tradition of women's social theory" (157), is true of Native American, Maori, African American, and other communal societies.

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