Ah, such sweet, sweet misery. It is rather painful, indeed. The book has come to a finish and it is true that I did not want it to be so.
How it has captivated me so. Her party, her party! Peter, and then Sally, the now Lady Rosseter… their conversation. How it has touched me, by Jove!
First I want to comment on how clever it was to give the woman of the house a certain power, almost divine in a sense.
• Pg.108: “…with a wave of the hand, the traffic ceases…” It was now Clarissa’s turn to play the role in which Lady Bruton had played at lunch.
By Jove—- Clarissa and Septimus finally met on page 179. However, when he finally comes across her mind, he is dead…
The vivid description of his death was frightening to read. It was strange, because the event happened some forty pages ago from the party but then… as Clarissa learned of it, the readers got to feel what Peter felt… at once. Forty pages late but ah! I could taste the asphalt on my tongue. The horror. And what of Dalloway?
Dalloway could relate to this feeling? “She felt somehow very like him – the young man who had killed himself. She felt glad that he had done it; thrown it away… He made her feel the beauty; made her feel the fun.” (182). What on Earth? A page ago she explained how she had never been so happy – due to Richard, but happy nonetheless.
Now this immense, intense, internal longing of death out of the blue? In this moment of isolation where she could be herself, unassembled?
How sad, Mrs. Dalloway… however, I will not say poor. There is a strength like no other shown in this passage. Her very strength of continuing on. Her light emitting from one person to the next depending on how they see her.
It ending with Peter. How he loves her still.
By Jove. I did not want it to end.

Return to game