The Power to Contemplate: An Artist Responds to Virginia Woolf by Jennifer Carson
“The Power to Contemplate: An Artist Responds to Virginia Woolf” by Jennifer Carson Five hundred a year stands for the power to contemplate … a lock on the door means the power to think for oneself. Several years ago, when my partner agreed that I could live in his house without contributing to the mortgage, I thought I had landed the perfect life. He had granted me Woolf’s five hundred a year. I...
Reading Virginia Woolf in the Nineties by Kristie Letter
“Reading Virginia Woolf in the Nineties” by Kristie Letter yes, Virginia in irregular rhythm and (extra) articulation, who thought beyond plotting, to take on and through and know mermaids (singing) and sisters who never flower into bards, swimming in words, sapping down difficulty becoming, re-evaluating Madonnas, beyond teen spirits into Victorian charms, a nose for truth, for key moments, the heat of the...
The Poem by Diane Furtney
“The Poem” by Diane Furtney “ . . . this loose, drifting material of life . . . Some idea of a new form. Suppose one thing should open out of another—as in an unwritten novel”–Virginia Woolf, A Writer’s Diary It’s instinctive, the lift at it, the damp summer grassweed smell, and you think small: gopher, badger, fox; an over owl; between the weeds. Then these shallow ditches, and the low foliage...
The Only Surviving Recording of Virginia Woolf’s Voice by Alison Townsend
“The Only Surviving Recording of Virginia Woolf’s Voice” by Alison Townsend I’m not expecting to hear her speak, stopped as I am at a red light in Stoughton, Wisconsin, on the daily, desperate dash home from work, my fractured spine throbbing as if it housed my heart not my nerves, this snippet on NPR as unexpected as recent November warm weather. But here she is, sounding husky and a bit tired, her plummy...
What Remains by Maggie Stetler
“What Remains” by Maggie Stetler — Remembering Virginia Woolf I. As a woman, I guarded my body too, longed for a mother, not a man, married for love and art but not sex. As a child in Pennsylvania, I dodged imaginary Cold-War bombs, pre-divorce barrages. In London, yours, a real war. No matter,...
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