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VIRGINIA WOOLF'S SCRIBBLED NOTES

"In the midst of these alternately charming and wrenching papers, one can easily lose sight of Woolf's unappealing qualities", writes Megan Buskey on visiting New York's Grolier Club ...

Special to MORE INTELLIGENT LIFE

"How in the world can the delicate but overarticulated psyche of Virginia Woolf withstand another exhumation?" wondered Daphne Merkin, before she went on to praise Hermione Lee's seminal biography of Woolf in 1997. The same question might vex a potential visitor to the Grolier Club in New York City, where an exhibition of Woolf's books and papers runs through November 22nd.

Such scepticism is unfortunate because the Grolier, a genteel institution on the Upper East Side devoted to the graphic arts, has done an excellent job with the exhibit, entitled "This Perpetual Fight: Love and Loss in Virginia Woolf's Intimate Circle." The featured works--hastily jotted notes, musty old diaries, inscribed first-editions--are all evocative and compelling. Displayed in 11 desk-sized glass enclosures that border the club's elegant main gallery, some of the materials are being offered to the public for the first time.

There was certainly plenty of material to draw from. During Woolf's lifetime, the telephone had yet to eclipse letter-writing as the primary form of communication and e-mail hadn't yet blanched such correspondence of its personal touches. Many of the items here are biographically richer than their contemporary equivalents. At the Grolier, one can view the engagement announcement Virginia sent to Lytton Strachey in which she mis-spelled her future husband's surname ("Wolf" instead of "Woolf"), hinting at how much the young couple had had to learn about each other.  

One can also examine the grimly tender letter Leonard wrote 30 years later to Vita Sackville-West, Virginia's erstwhile lover, informing her that Virginia had disappeared from their country house and left behind a suicide note. "I did not want you to see in the paper or hear possibly on the wireless the terrible thing that has happened to Virginia," Leonard begins in turgid, green-inked script. "I know what you will feel and felt for her. She was very fond of you. She has been through hell these past few days." That Leonard could be so generous at such a harrowing time lends shape to the courteous, practical man Virginia relied on throughout their marriage. Had they been living today, Leonard Woolf would have probably called Vita Sackville-West on her mobile with the news that Virginia had in all likelihood drowned herself in the Ouse. There would be no record.

Many items in the show enthral on the basis of their place in literary history. An early one-page outline of "Mrs Dalloway", heavily edited proofs of "Orlando" and about a half-dozen first editions of Virginia's novels, all with stylised covers designed by Vanessa Bell, Virginia's sister. Other items offer access to that dizzy place between commemoration and voyeurism. The Grolier got hold of the last volume of Virginia's diary; it lays open to its final entry. In a half-page of cramped writing, Virginia describes visiting a woman who had lost two sons in the war. "Sitting there I tried to coin a few compliments," she recorded. "But they perished in the icy sea between us. And then there was nothing." Was it possible visiting this woman rekindled reflections on her own loss? (Virginia was haunted by the early deaths of her beloved brother Thoby and her nephew Julian.) Once voluble in self-analysis, she offers no hints. The entry ends with a gesture towards normalcy: "L is doing the rhododendrons."

One can also examine non-verbal testimonies of Virginia's intimate relationships. The most touching piece in this regard is a copy of "Orlando" once belonging to Vita Sackville-West, the inspiration for the novel's androgynous protagonist. Vita gave the book to her wealthy, diplomat husband Sir Harold Nicolson, with the inscription "From Orlando." It's hard to think of a more pithy and moving expression for Virginia and Vita's unique relationship.

Woolf's linguistic versatility, observational power and wit make even the most mundane correspondence worth scrutinising. On an overdue invoice sent to Lytton Strachey in November 1924, she needled: "Your attention is particularly called to the above account outstanding since May!--carrying the devil of a bother in our Books; which won't balance until you pay; as an Englishman, on Armistice Day, we implore. Signed: 2 Woolfs 1 Dadie 1 Mrs Joad [the couple's support staff] In love and reverence." Other items on display are simply a delight to examine, such as the copy of Hyde Park Gate News, the household newsletter compiled by the Stephen siblings, written in Vanessa Stephen's childish hand and bearing the date of 1891. One can also see the pages Virginia wrote tutoring her nephew Julian on the subject of poetry. 

In the midst of these alternately charming and wrenching papers, one can easily loose sight of Woolf's unappealing qualities. Other than a letter to Lytton Strachey, in which she refers to the well-meaning but awkward Bloomsbury patron Ottoline Morrell as a mackerel--"she ought to be put in a tank"--little of her snide side is on display. This omission is partly rectified in the exhibition catalogue, in which an American woman reminisces about interviewing a distracted, brittle Virginia as a young scholar. 

The exhibition concludes with a selection of letters Leonard and Vita exchanged following Virginia's death. In her will Virginia bequeathed an unspecified original manuscript to Vita. Vita preferred "The Waves", which Leonard wanted to keep. "I am glad you have been outspoken, as always," he writes, before compromising with "Mrs Dalloway". The snit is prefigured in a poem Clive Bell, Virginia's brother-in-law, wrote for her when she was 25, and which is also on view at the Grolier. In it he observes, "books are the heart's memorial." Visitors to the Grolier show would undoubtedly agree.

Picture credit: Passport leaf bearing Virginia Woolf's signature and photograph, 1923, courtesy of the Grolier Club (top); miss_rogue/flickr (right)

(Megan Buskey is a writer based in Brooklyn.)