Appositively Entertaining

And so it has begun. The process of moving, the process of processing, the process of turning my life upside down. I have donated half my wardrobe, most of my electronics, aside from my computer, and terrifyingly I have decreased my personal library by half. If the title is confusing, (yes, it is technically incorrect) it happened upon me while wandering through Powell's (before I halved my library, that is) a few days ago. I picked up a new-release, with quite a nice cover jacket on it, and read the inside flap. Near the end of the summary of the novel came a string of adjectival appositive statements. Before solely judging the novel on the pretty cover and the appositives alone, I flipped through the pages, read some paragraphs here and there. It dawned on me: I enjoyed those simple, short statements more than the actual writing style of the author. Sometimes I just happens that way. And maybe it's because my English degree has ruined every existing enjoyable aspect of books for me.

But for now: what better novel to complement this major change than with Mrs. Dalloway by (the ever-glorious) Virginia Woolf. I figure with the bittersweet-ness of moving, and the sadness of leaving my friends behind, only Woolf can soothe the pain (or cause more of it). And apparently, I am very fond of asides in the form of parenthetical statements. Maybe because I have too much to say, maybe because I am unable to say it all up front, maybe because it works better as a parenthetical aside.

Moving on from my monologue there... Virginia Woolf is one of my favorite writers. I won't say author, because she is a wonderful creator of words and phrases and emotions. Never have I experienced such synchronicity as with Woolf's characters. For someone so concerned with modernity and the lack of connection between people, she can really make the reader feel as if they have an intimacy with each person. Mrs. Dalloway is no exception. She is... something. The epitome of a repressed female, stuck in a marriage, dreams of her own, no where to go, nothing to do except throw a party for her philandering husband.

I do hope this helps me cope with the coming tide of emotion.

(originally written 30 March, 2013)