Good Heavens- I shall try and make this analysis comprehensible.
Where to begin? And what to say? I feel as if Mrs. Dalloway is speaking on heavy themes here, if one is to look beyond the ordinary.
What to make of all mumbling and tumbling around within the syntax. A woman writer, say? That’s interesting, impressive even. I would not have guessed due to the wording…
Now I would not admit this to any fellow man… but there is something in what this novel is saying… However fragmented the characters may be, lost in time, hardly connecting to those around them… This book seems to have connected with me.
By Jove, what would they say?
If I told them I knew how Clarissa Dalloway felt when she stepped outside and felt herself at the ripe age of eighteen once more. I find this occurring within myself whilst I step every so often with a brisk, sort of encouraging feeling, you know, and I was once more the healthy young chap, with optimistic, pioneer dreams and a longing to explore the world.
What would they say?
If I said I knew the feeling all too well. The sudden noise, an explosion, death, blackness, no – it was a motor car. The power of anxiety brought on by the war, triggered here or there by a noise, created an automatic reflex from every busy body on the street.
How I wish I did not know.
The feeling of isolation in the middle of traffic, the impending sense of doom, every feeling she experienced for Peter, all of the moments coming together for him at one time! It is this that lets me know this work of art is genuine.
I feel I know these characters as I know myself.

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