"Here's To You Mrs. Dalloway"

"And here's to you, Mrs. Dalloway,
 Culture loves you more than you will know"

 

With apologies to Simon & Garfunkel, this bit of doggerel came to me when I read the Bookends feature of the "New York Times" weekly Book Review Section on April 19.

 

"A weekend is a much bigger character than Watergate."  That quote from Wilfred Sheed was used to kick off the usual "Bookends" offerings by two commentators, this time on the question of whether everyday life is better fodder for fiction than grand events.

 

The most interesting aspect of the unprovocative exchange of views was that both of the commentators, presumably independently, cited Virginia Woolf's novel "Mrs. Dalloway"  as a prime example of "everyday life" fiction. 

 

I think they got the right author, but the wrong book. In "Mrs. Dalloway," one of the main characters commits suicide and the prime minister of England is coming to the party Clarissa and her husband, a government official, are hosting that night. These are not everyday events.

 

In contrast, Woolf's equally well regarded novel "To the Lighthouse" is concerned entirely with the quotidian affairs of family and friends.

 

Perhaps the commentators, Thomas Mallon and Francine Prose, took the quote upon which the exchange of views was based too literally -- believing that when Sheed chose the word "weekend" to represent everyday life events, he was thinking of novels that not only fail to treat with great events, but also occur in a very short time frame.

 

"Mrs. Dalloway," like James Joyce's "Ulysses," takes place in a single day. "To the Lighthouse" covers a number of days with a gap of ten years in between the beginning and the end. In my view, the duration of time is irrelevant to the question that was posed.

 

Unsurprisingly, both commentators come down firmly in the middle: it's not an either/or question in their respective views.

 

While I certainly enjoy well-crafted novels on major events from time to time, I lean in the direction of "Mrs. Dalloway" in terms of what I tend to reach for - when I feel I need something to read - often without much success. A quick glance at the NYT weekly best seller lists is illustrative of the nature of the problem. Such books don't tend to sell particularly well and most authors, with justification, seem to feel that remuneration for what they do is an important consideration.

 

A lot of Woolf's novel takes place within Clarissa's inner thoughts as she goes about her day and, as is the case with my novella "Manhattan Morning," what I call associative thinking features prominently.  Something triggers a thought and that thought leads to another, and onward. This is, indeed, everyday life for many people.

 

"Manhattan Morning," by the way, takes place in about a half a day, but events that took place considerably earlier figure prominently.