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A review by marc129
Between the Acts by Virginia Woolf
3.0
It is always ungrateful to judge an unfinished novel: did what was found in Woolf's estate comply with what she herself intended it to be? What changes would she have made? These are questions that cannot be answered properly. Most experts emphasize that this manuscript was almost complete, so who am I to pass judgment on that?
Anyway, I noticed striking similarities with her other works: the same thoughtful character sketches, the flow of interactions between the characters that reveal a wealth of significant details, and the way time both seems to stand still in the story and at the same time storming ahead at full speed. Especially in the opening scenes the style is very precise and copious, with abundant descriptions of the natural scenery in the English country side.
The stage of this novel is a annual summer event, June 1939, with a play that is brought on the estate of a country house. It's a rather heterogenic play, in several acts, evocating fragments from English history. The company we're in is very mixed: new and old bourgeoisie, vulgar and learned peasants and, obviously, a bunch of domestic servants, … how more English could this be? The short acts of the play, each time in the style of the historical periods involved, are full of references and keys to the relationships and backgrounds of the people in the audience. And the entractes (to which the title of the novel refers) deepen this dynamic and always take it a step further. In the background the coming war is manifest, giving the whole setting a somewhat menacing flavour.
All ingredients are there for a remarkable novel. Yet, to me, this is certainly not Woolf's most accomplished one. It reminded me a little bit too much of those typical English society novels I already read so many of. And I specifically struggled with the stage scenes and their often archaic style. The whole gave me the distinct impression it lacked the more dense focus Woolf's other novels have. But – finished or not – I agree this book is yet another testimony to her deep introspection into the richness and capriciousness of life, set in a typical English context.
Anyway, I noticed striking similarities with her other works: the same thoughtful character sketches, the flow of interactions between the characters that reveal a wealth of significant details, and the way time both seems to stand still in the story and at the same time storming ahead at full speed. Especially in the opening scenes the style is very precise and copious, with abundant descriptions of the natural scenery in the English country side.
The stage of this novel is a annual summer event, June 1939, with a play that is brought on the estate of a country house. It's a rather heterogenic play, in several acts, evocating fragments from English history. The company we're in is very mixed: new and old bourgeoisie, vulgar and learned peasants and, obviously, a bunch of domestic servants, … how more English could this be? The short acts of the play, each time in the style of the historical periods involved, are full of references and keys to the relationships and backgrounds of the people in the audience. And the entractes (to which the title of the novel refers) deepen this dynamic and always take it a step further. In the background the coming war is manifest, giving the whole setting a somewhat menacing flavour.
All ingredients are there for a remarkable novel. Yet, to me, this is certainly not Woolf's most accomplished one. It reminded me a little bit too much of those typical English society novels I already read so many of. And I specifically struggled with the stage scenes and their often archaic style. The whole gave me the distinct impression it lacked the more dense focus Woolf's other novels have. But – finished or not – I agree this book is yet another testimony to her deep introspection into the richness and capriciousness of life, set in a typical English context.