Looking to rent one room for self-usage only

I started reading the book with an apple in my hand. So it only seemed pure justice to commence the review in the said fashion. Thus with a hearty bite, I sink my teeth not only into the fruit but also into the matter debated by Virginia Woolf in her little “A room of one’s own”. This is the second little jewel found in Brasov and I recommend it best served cold with an apple. For the most frequent portrayal of the original sin, the fruit of knowledge is the perfect companion for a discussion about women and fiction. Therefore I invite you to an apple and may I ask…a thought…


I cannot honestly say I feel warmly towards Virginia Woolf. Though the fact that she is one of the greatest British writers is a mater of no debate, her style of prose is not one of my cups of tea. She rebels against the traditional, the Victorian construction of novel and prefers the stream of consciousness as her main weapon (when I come upon such a technique I suddenly feel the need to put a bullet through my brain and whistle through the hole). For those, as I, who dislike this more realistic depiction of the human brain, I do not recommend Mrs. Woolf. But the particular book I have read is written tolerably if not magnificently (depends on the taste of each reader). She uses a complicated and elevated vocabulary (to my genuine delight, and here I speak with no irony), all neatly sown with a thin thread of irony.


On the mater of subject: she attempts to give an answer to the question of where is the literary female equivalent of Shakespeare. And here is where the magic commences: if a female dared to follow the path of the said writer, the chains of society would have pulled her down. The fate of women those days were simple: grow, marry, breed and die. Are there any questions, any complains? If so, prepare for a beating, for total submission to the male figure (father, brother or husband) is expected. Thus Virginia follows the would-be-fate of Shakespeare’s sister (imaginary or not) if she would have taken the path of her “brother”. The title also refers to what was needed to a woman to compose: a room. A room of her own where in full intimacy, the female writer could lose herself in the art of composing.


But these are only few examples of what Virginia has to offer us in “A room of one’s own”. I recommend it fully and cast upon it the sentence of “a must reed”.


In the end I ask of my female readers to ponder on a question raised by Virginia:
“Are you aware that you are, perhaps, the most discussed animal in the universe?”

Your humble apple eating servant,
Myself.