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BIOGR.
Virginia Woolf once observed, "to have so many selves." In her novels
and essays, not to mention nearly 4,000 letters and a 30-volume diary,
Woolf left behind her a voluminous anatomy of self, and in the years since
her 1941 suicide, biographers and critics have created a succession of
further portraits.
Biographies are fictions we contrive about lives we find meaningful.
Facts are interpretable, and become available to the biographer with a
certain randomness: the significance of unknown ''facts'' can scarcely be
determined.
To literary formalists, she was a groundbreaking stylist, a courageous
experimenter who, along with James Joyce, fractured and remade the novel.
To feminists, she was an early advocate of women's rights, a writer
concerned with both the social and emotional consequences of patriarchal
politics. Quentin Bell's 1972 biography of his aunt focused on her life
rather than her art, leaving us with a picture of a high-strung, unstable
woman, irreparably damaged by her childhood and dependent in later life on
the ministrations of her devoted husband, Leonard. Phyllis Rose's "Woman of
Letters" (1978) provided a feminist reading of the transactions between her
fiction and her life, while Lyndall Gordon's "Virginia Woolf: A Writer's
Life" (1984) attempted to use Woolf's own narrative techniques by focusing
on a series of epiphanic moments that supposedly shaped Woolf's sensibility
and art. James King's biography, which draws heavily on Woolf's diaries and
letters, takes an altogether more comprehensive approach, providing the
reader with more than anyone could want to know about the writer's daily
ups and downs, travels and flirtations.
Virginia Woolf had very mixed feelings about biography, or ''life-
writing,'' as she called it. On the one hand she was an enthusiast: ''As
everybody knows,'' she wrote in her essay on Christina Rossetti, ''the
fascination of reading biographies is irresistible.'' But, she also
declared biography to be ''a bastard, an impure art'' and claimed that the
very idea was ''poppycock.''
(Mr. King -- a professor of English at McMaster University in
Hamilton, Ontario, and the author of earlier biographies of William Cowper,
Paul Nash and William Blake -- tells us about Woolf's menstrual problems,
her attacks of diarrhea, her difficulties in buying clothes. He tells us
about her sexual frigidity and her fears about being thought cold and
detached. He dwells at considerable length on Woolf's lengthy flirtation
with Clive Bell, her sister Vanessa's husband, and also speculates that
Woolf might have had an incestuous relationship with Vanessa. That
suggestion, at least based on the evidence presented in these pages, seems
highly suspect. As Mr. King himself points out, Woolf always shied away
from the sexual side of relationships. And while Vanessa notes in a letter
that Virginia was "pining for a real petting" and refers to her as an "ape"
who might make "a pleasant enough |