Mrs Dalloway

Reading Mrs Dalloway was a much nicer experience than reading To the Lighthouse. I found several passages very beautiful. I loved the descriptions of London. And I saw a lot of myself reflected in Peter Walsh—at least my previous self, a self that I am trying very hard to leave behind. Despite that, I have sadly decided that I do not like Virginia Woolf's writing style, at least not her stream of thought style of those two novels. I find it extremely confusing, extremely difficult to follow. So much so that it opaques the beauty of several masterfully written sentences. It is almost like Virginia Woolf thought that beauty could only exist in immensely complex and incomprehensible narratives. I do not think I dislike things only because I do not understand them. I do not understand the stars in the sky, yet I admire them greatly. In this case, however, I do not understand her writing style, which happens to greatly contribute to my dislike of her novels.