Virginia Woolf

María Cuquejo

Esta novela consegue expresar con meirande intensidade e beleza a complexidade da experiencia humana. A novela acada unha forma de narrar que racha os arquetipos literarios, descrubrindo unha linguaxe nova, aberta ás sensacións e ás emocións, pero sen perder a capacidade de reflexión, a ironía e o pulo narrativo das grandes obras. A vida dun grupo de amigos, desde a infancia ata a mocidade e a idade adulta, centra a historia que Virginia Woolf conta dunha maneira diferente e nada convencional. A escritora inglesa logra atinguir unha prosa chea de matices e tonalidades, cunha expresión sensitiva fóra do común, para condensar nunha obra de ficción a experiencia humana nas súas facetas múltiples e contraditorias.

As ondas

loisesya

Francesca 

I will give; I will enrich; I will return to the world this beauty. I will bind my flowers in one garland and advancing with my hand outstretched will present them—Oh! to whom?

I am the seasons, I think sometimes, January, May, November; the mud, the mist, the dawn. 

yana

i think sometimes i am not a woman, but the light that falls on this gate, on this ground. i am the seasons, i think sometimes, january, may, november; the mud, the mist, the dawn.

madina

The mind grows rings; the identity becomes robust; pain is absorbed in growth.

lelayna

I hold a stalk in my hand. I am the stalk. My roots go down to the depths of the world, through earth dry with brick, and damp earth, through veins of lead and silver. I am all fibre. All tremors shake me, and the weight of the earth is pressed to my ribs.

Look, the loop of the figure is beginning to fill with time; it holds the world in it. I begin to draw a figure and the world is looped in it, and I myself am outside the loop; which I now join-so-and seal up, and make entire. The world is entire, and I am outside of it, crying, “Oh save me, from being blown for ever outside the loop of time!”

n.  littéraire

We are nothing, I said, and fell. I was blown like a feather, I was wafted down tunnels. Then very gingerly, I pushed my foot across. I laid my hand against a brick wall. I returned very painfully, drawing myself back into my body over the grey, cadaverous space of the puddle. This is life then to which I am committed.

As ondas quotes

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