Yesterday I was flipping through (again) Not A Muse, an anthology of women's poetry from around the world, edited by Hong Kong poets/editors/teachers Viki Holmes and Kate Rogers. In Kate's introduction is a quote from Virginia Woolf, which was used in the anthology's call for submissions:
"Across the broad continent of a woman's life falls the shadow of a sword. On one side all is correct, definite, orderly; the paths are strait [sic], the trees regular, the sun shaded; escorted by gentlemen, protected by policemen, wedded and buried by clergy-men, she has only to walk demurely from cradle to grave and no one will touch a hair of her head. But on the other side all is confusion. Nothing follows a regular course. The paths wind between bogs and precipices. The trees roar and rock and fall in ruin." --Virginia Woolf, Collected Essays Volume III
I have Woolf's collections of essays hidden away in some box in my old family flat. She was my favorite author from my late teens to early 20's: I read practically all her books, including the silly novella she wrote about a dog. The phase passed after a few years, though my fears of living a woman's life - or simply, an adult life - prevailed. For all your ambitions, talent and inner fury, you may well stumble in front of conventions that befall on you. Surely, we didn't sign up for these questions and expectations, confrontation and judgment when we enter our relations with others--the ones who choose us and claim to love us, especially--and the world?
The conflict is an ever widening abyss into which I scream--or I used to do so, given my attempts in stability and normalcy in recent years. Through my attempts I have slowed down, to the point of actively failing to accomplish at times. Ten years ago, I'd never have dreamt of turning into a woman who'd walk in the shade.
"Across the broad continent of a woman's life falls the shadow of a sword. On one side all is correct, definite, orderly; the paths are strait [sic], the trees regular, the sun shaded; escorted by gentlemen, protected by policemen, wedded and buried by clergy-men, she has only to walk demurely from cradle to grave and no one will touch a hair of her head. But on the other side all is confusion. Nothing follows a regular course. The paths wind between bogs and precipices. The trees roar and rock and fall in ruin." --Virginia Woolf, Collected Essays Volume III
I have Woolf's collections of essays hidden away in some box in my old family flat. She was my favorite author from my late teens to early 20's: I read practically all her books, including the silly novella she wrote about a dog. The phase passed after a few years, though my fears of living a woman's life - or simply, an adult life - prevailed. For all your ambitions, talent and inner fury, you may well stumble in front of conventions that befall on you. Surely, we didn't sign up for these questions and expectations, confrontation and judgment when we enter our relations with others--the ones who choose us and claim to love us, especially--and the world?
The conflict is an ever widening abyss into which I scream--or I used to do so, given my attempts in stability and normalcy in recent years. Through my attempts I have slowed down, to the point of actively failing to accomplish at times. Ten years ago, I'd never have dreamt of turning into a woman who'd walk in the shade.
A woman in the shade. I didn't see that one coming either. Life is such sighs and sighs.
ReplyDeletemaybe not always in the shade, but we get molded into something we thought we'd never be.
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