The Years

There's a lot of things that made me stop and think (or maybe, more accurately, pause on the realization that I had such a thought while I was still reading) about Virginia Woolf's The Years that didn't have much to do with an overarching plot line.  In truth, there were so many characters presented in this book that it was hard for me to keep track of them all, and because only a few of them stood out for me enough to be remembered, I simply just allowed myself to drift along without a clear idea of who anyone was at any given time but rather just delve on the individual moment presented and the feelings that were felt.

This is my second experience with the late Mrs. Woolf's works, and what I'm discovering is that she is showing the world that the aging female character is a person, and that's she's just as capable—if not more so—of being an interesting and textured lead character than any of her younger counterparts (though I guess no one was really a lead in this book).  She doesn't always need to be restricted to a passing name or supporting role, and it's a strange thing to think about how even in 2019, it's not something you come across much.

The other thing, is that the writing in this book is so theatrical. In the final section, someone opens a book, and Woolf writes "Always before reading he had to arrange the scene; to let this sink; that come forward." and that's exactly what she does — Chapters (years) are religiously set up with a scene and the weather to set the tone. As characters come in contact with one another, their stories pass from one to the other like a camera seamlessly swinging from one point of focus to another in a single second. It's all very fluid and thoughtful.

There was a lot of repetition in this book that I couldn't quite crack the meaning of. Almost every character at some point repeats a line that they've spoken several times, often back to back. It's unsettling and strange but there must be a reason for it.  Maybe it ties in to the idea that life is just a series of repetitions, as one of the characters notices at some point.  The ending certainly supports that feeling—it's a pretty and hopeful one, encapsulating life lived as a memory and the eternity of youth within one's mindset.