The two Woolfs -- the large canvas tectonic Woolf of Orlando and the minute almost tactile in-the-moment Woolf of Mrs Dalloway are brought together here.

Not unlike The Waves, sessions of historical narrative are bookended -- entr'acte'd if you will -- by waves of natural description to indicate the passage of time, or at least clean the palate.

I found the action of the plot too brief, and the natural pageant way too massive.

Reminds me of another known Woolf entirely:

In The Voyage Out she has whole sections - chapters - in imitation of Dickens. She indicates as much. I found the family saga more Dickenslike, the Woolf of the three-volume-novel (Like The Voyage Out) which as a model plays to neither of her strengths.

My feeling - no accounting for taste. I will come back to this and decide maybe I've missed something.

But I'm quibbling. It's good and you should read it and prove me wrong.