Mrs. Woolf and the Servants by Alison Light explores an area of women’s history often ignored. This nonfiction academic book tells the stories of the women who worked as servants for the Woolfs and their Bloomsbury circle.
Virginia Woolf lived in a time when all upper-class people had live-in servants. How else would they haul water up flights of stairs, light fires, empty chamber pots, and produce, on a wood or coal stove, three formal meals a day plus tea. The huge difference in housekeeping between one hundred years ago and now is clearly brought home.
The relationships between Woolf and her servants interest the author as much as their duties and living situations. The information is presented mainly from the upper-class point of view. Woolf left diaries and voluminous written material. Her servants did not. The author tries to equalize the situation by a thorough examination of government and institutional records, but there is little personal material available.
Light’s book would appeal to the reader who wants to learn more about Virginia Woolf’s life and writing. I was caught by Woolf’s conflicting emotions about the servants. Here was a self-proclaimed feminist, a liberal thinker of her day, who tormented herself over the question of the poor, but was unable to see those who lived in her home under her nose as worthy of concern. The way she writes about her servants is appalling. If it was so hard for someone like her to overcome the straitjacket of convention, is it any wonder we continue to have trouble?
This book would also appeal to the reader interested in women’s history of the early 1900’s in London. Light tells about the high number of abandoned children left in the poor houses who were trained with one goal in mind – to be servants. And third are Woolf’s exhaustive ruminations on social structure and her conflicting desire for an independent life with leaving her underwear for someone else to wash.
Reading this made me think about what it would be like to have outsiders in the house day and night. What would they think of me if I read or napped in the afternoon? Would their observing presence make me uncomfortable? It would, and I understand better why Woolf and her class created enough barriers, both mental and physical, between themselves and the servant class, so that they would not care. Their opinions just didn’t matter.
And a last thought – currently, we are very concerned in our culture with the residual effects of slavery which ended 150 years ago. Shouldn’t we also recognize that the long-lasting effects of a class system that produced mind numbing poverty, ignorance and grueling working conditions less than 100 years ago might be responsible for some of the problems among whites today?
Poets, ramblers, thinkers, teachers, adventurers, birders, gardeners – they are women who have written about nature and are the subject of Writing Wild by Kathryn Aalto.
She wants to balance the masculine Thoreau, Muir, Audubon names that control our view of nature writing by inspiring us to read some of the women authors who have made so many contributions without equal fame.
Aalto whets our appetite with summaries, excerpts and commentaries about twenty-five diverse writers ranging from Dorothy Wordsworth who journaled in the early 1800’s, more well-known authors like Mary Oliver and Rachel Carson, to current native American and black voices, like Robin Wall Kimmerer and Carolyn Finney. In addition, there are many honorable mentions. What a wealth to choose from!
This is an excellent selection from the many Western women of the last two hundred years who are receiving recognition for nature writing of all kinds: Vita Sackville-West, the developer of the famous English garden Sissinghurst; Saci Lloyd, a teacher who writes “cli-fi” (climate change fiction); Camille Dungy, a poet who writes about the very scientific concept of trophic cascade (what happens when a top predator is reintroduced into an area). Living in an environmentally oblivious neighborhood as I do, I am comforted to know that the expanse of nature writers is so broad (and these are just the women).
Those of you who know my less-than-avid interest in history will be all the more impressed with Aalto to learn that she has enticed me to choose one of the “honorable mentions” that reeks of history to put on my “list,” Pocahontas: Medicine Woman, Spy, Entrepreneur, Diplomat by Paula Gunn Allen. Sounds fun!
And there is a new word – mudlarking – which is one of the author’s hobbies. It means scavenging in river mud for objects of value, commonly on the tidal River Thames. The term can be expanded to include finding an unexpected treasure such as when searching through old research files; I think of garage sales.
Run by Ann Patchett reminds me of early novels – the kind where well-developed characters had problems but were not filled with angst. The various plot lines came together with interesting twists and coincidences that led to a satisfying ending.
So it is in Run. Patchett introduces us to a prominent white politician, happily married, one child. The couple adopts two black infants. The wife dies. When the boys are grown there is an automobile accident that gets the story rolling. A black woman who saves one of the boys turns out to be the mother who gave him up for adoption.
The story gently explores the relationships among all these people – the neglected first son, the white father pressuring the adopted boys to succeed; the black mother who wanted a good life for her boys – and now, her daughter thrust into the center. One unguarded, careless moment that changes everything is a common theme, but Patchett does a good job with it.
Comparing the treatment of race in this barely fifteen-year-old story to how it is treated in novels written currently is thought provoking. There are comments about black children being ignored and not seen, about black uninsured hospital patients receiving more casual care, but oh how mild these comments are compared to what we read today. Is it the age of the book or the white author?
I was pleased to learn that it isn’t necessary to read Anne Hillerman’s mysteries in order. Cave of Bones became available for listening and I enjoyed it without having heard the previous. Some mysteries emphasize plot but hers develops the very likeable officer Bernadette Manuelito who has become the new heroine of the Leaphorn/Chee series
Are there other female Native American detectives in fiction? Bernie, the Navajo wife and daughter, fills the empty spot. The grandeur of the Southwest, valuable tribal pots, Navajo customs are all here in this compelling mystery.
Do any of you follow Books with Sue Fitzmaurice on Facebook? She always has the best quotes! Notice that this one comes from Powell’s Compendium of Readerly Terms. The Compendium is a real thing put together by Powell’s Books in Portland.
Here’s another:
It is easy to find these very fun definitions online.
I want to read the Aalto book and will get it soon. Your thoughts on Patchett and Woolf are very appropriate and pertinent. Thanks ,
Thanks for your recommendations of several very interesting books! The Woolf/servants one sounds very provoking, and of course there must be some wonderful women writers on the subject of nature! Another interesting moment with Diane, great reader.
Love your observation about Virginia Woolf, ” If it was so hard for someone like her to overcome the straitjacket of convention, is it any wonder we continue to have trouble?”