"There's
just this for consolation: an hour here or there when our lives seem, against
all odds and expectations, to burst open and give us everything we've ever
imagined."
The 1% Well-Read Challenge is a well-conceived idea, and I fully intend to complete it by the end of February. However, it is difficult to decide how to focus a review when your subject matter is some of the world's most notable literature and you have the space of a blog post to address it. So much has been written about these selections already, and if you loved the book, as I did
The Hours, you feel as if anything less than a stellar post will somehow be a disservice to the work. So I popped in the graphic you see above into a new post and saved the draft on December 13 and have not written a single word here until just now as if procrastination would somehow lend weight to my words. But I can't put this off any longer so....
The Hours, an homage to the work of Virginia Woolf, is composed of three story lines woven seamlessly together that merge thematically (and in one dramatic moment physically) at various points in the novel. Virginia Woolf struggles in domestic exile from London as she begins to write Mrs. Dalloway. Laura Brown yearns for escape from 1950s family life. Clarissa Vaughan, like Clarissa Dalloway, is planning a party for her dearest friend Richard who has just won a literary prize as he slips away with AIDS.
All three women suffer in some degree from the scripting of their lives. As Woolf writes (or scripts) the fictional life of
Mrs. Dalloway, her husband Leonard confines her to a domestic script removed from London where she has experienced such psychological unease. Woolf struggles to remember her lines as she gives directions to the housekeeper. She thinks that her sister, Vanessa, that visits is more comfortable in this play of domesticity than she will ever be. Laura feels that she is "about to go onstage and perform in a play for which she is not appropriately dressed, and for which she has not adequately rehearsed." Clarissa surveys her own kitchen and hardly recognizes the accoutrement of her life, all tastefully selected and arranged but more prop than reflection of her essence, the eighteen year old girl that kisses Richard in a defining moment.
Virginia and Laura both struggle under the societal expectations of their times. The lines they strive to deliver have been written by a patriarchal culture. Both characters have husbands that seek to control their actions under the guise of protecting them (from themselves presumably). However, both women reveal in their thoughts that the sanity or balance they desire exists outside the boundaries of the societal definition of sound mental health. There are few alternatives for both but escape. Conversely, Clarissa appears the picture of equanimity and normalcy. However, despite her freedom to live openly as a lesbian and make her own choices for her life, Clarissa is still playing the traditional roles of wife and mother. When Richard the poet seeks to define her as she truly is in his one prose outing, the language is virtually incomprehensible to most.
Ultimately, language and behavior outside of the patriarchal norms exist as "the other" in this novel no matter the time frame. The focus on objects, the peppering of life's sets with both the expected and the personal are beautiful here as the characters strive to meet societal expectations that do not always serve their intellect, heart, or sanity well.