A Room of One’s Own and five hundred pounds a year… Yes, that’s all any woman (or man, for that matter) should ever be in need of. “A woman must have money and a room of her own if she is to write fiction”… Quite a simple premise, isn’t it? Simple, and obvious, and unquestionable. But things weren’t as straightforward back in the twenties – when this essay was produced – and in fact, this is only the beginning of what the witty, intelligent, highly sensitive Virginia Woolf has to tell us on the subject of women and fiction.
If I’m to be totally honest, I’m still in awe of this book, and I finished it well over a couple of weeks ago. It’s so broad in scope, so utterly meaningful in every possible way, that it’s very difficult to sum up without wanting to quote it in its entirety; I won’t even attempt to do it, so, if you’ll allow me, I’m going to disclose it chapter by chapter: fortunately this is not a novel, so I don’t think there’s any harm done in spoiling the “plot” for you.
You can read the whole review over at Moonlight and Sims – Blogger.