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For me, after having read Mrs. Dalloway, I quite loathed Virginia Woolf and her experimental style, which defied all styles. This novel was not easy to get through, though much more manageable than her later works because it mimics an actual novel style, rather than her signature, stream of conscious. Then again, I have yet to fully realize this first woeful tale by Woolf, other than to truly appreciate this woman's incredible talent.

To be honest, the only reason I bothered with this first venture of Woolf's was by design rather than my choice. A friend and I decided to form our own book club, and her favorite, of course, was Woolf. And thus, I was committed.

Meet Rachel Vinrace, a twenty-four year old young woman, adrift and impressionable, considered very 'unformed' and vague by those around her. Under the care of her aunt and uncle, Ridley and Helen Ambrose, she journeys across the ocean from England to a resort town in South America, and thrust into a world of humanity and emotion, nature and variegated personalities that are at once overwhelming and instructive. Her birth of understanding, which are both strange and exciting experiences, Rachel begins to conceive and formulate herself through a series of experimental interactions with her relatives, especially Helen, as well as with colorful, if not seemingly stolid characters from the nearby hotel. Unshaped perceptions leave her breathless yet wiser, and barely does she scrape the surface of life, experience and self-understanding before Rachel herself is extinguished.

This is a haunting, romantically tragic tale of something gained and then fleetingly, it is all lost, leaving everything, and everyone in turmoil and yet, continuing on. At first, the story is incoherent, boring, at times scattered and frustrating to read. Characters and events which seemed, at first, to have no purpose, at times appearing to be trivial, begin to take shape and form. All these intricately woven pieces which become the very basis in which Rachel can experience her world, the real world and herself, slowly and so powerfully are pieced together and you may not even realize it until much later on, like I did and still piecing together. These descriptions of other British people in a remote exotic port is a contrast to Rachel's own growing sense of awareness and independence, each interaction is carefully placed and not random. This is where Woolf excels, providing the seemingly unimportant and even dismissive scenes and making them relevant, later on, when the reader has read the book.

A few chapters are painfully aware and poignant and wonderful, heady and traumatic in its sharp intuitive vocalization of human emotions and realization of defects in human nature itself. And all against the beautiful backdrop of a South America that I, as a reader, have never experienced. You will ask yourself for the first whole half, What Is The Point? And then, like a train wreck, it's there, hitting you in the face, as Woolf weaves people and experiences, emotions and underlying tones of social mores and scripted human behaviors, all of which presses upon every character like a net, and ensnares the reader. It is layer upon layer and easy to miss the subtle influence and connections that Woolf effortlessly weaves and throws right before your eyes. Call it genius or magic, you will be astounded, or numbed. And if you're careful enough, you'll glimpse what Woolf was trying to say. You will look upon pain, and will flinch. Don't look away, or you may miss it.

I for one am still reeling from the sensory onslaught, her words like water over rocks and I have to admit, I loved this book, and I was utterly perplexed by it. It is, like most rare and profound stories, an emotional voyage, filled with symbols and allusions, and something which leaves THAT something inside you, burrowing and forever embedded in your very thoughts. I want to read it again, mark the pages and remember those eerie descriptions of human frailty and human experiences rendered in such a way to leave me breathless and engrossed. It's safe to say, that I am quite taken and can't wait to read the next Woolf story. So read on, good reader, read on, if you dare.

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"The Voyage Out (Signet classics)" Overview


A party of English people are aboard the Euphrosyne, bound for South America. Among them is Rachel Vinrace, a young girl, innocent and wholly ignorant of the world of politics and society, books, sex, love and marriage. She is a free spirit half-caught, momentarily and passionately, by Terence Hewet, an aspiring writer who she meets in Santa Marina. But their engagement is to end abruptly, and tragically. Virginia Woolf's first novel, published in 1915, is a haunting exploration of a young woman's mind, signalling the beginning of her fascination with capturing the mysteries and complexities of the inner life.




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