Virginia Woolf’s Orlando claims it is a biography. A young man, the eponymous Orlando, finds himself in London in the 16th century. At first, we find him in an attic, amusing himself with a severed head and a sword. Virginia Woolf also tells us to hope that Orlando at a later date will become a woman. It is meant to be a surprise book.

Of course, he’s in court, where else? She rubs shoulders with the Tudor bigwigs, even the monarchs. Of course he is short. Where else could such a character reside? Bloomsbury, perhaps… A few years later, he even looks up at the dome of St. Paul’s Cathedral, many decades before it was built. Despite his historical settings, Orlando doesn’t care much about accuracy. It is not long before this biography becomes decidedly less definable, though its author continues to invoke her stated intention to present the life of an individual.

Orlando, both the book and the character, is quite difficult to define. Although apparently focused on the life, or perhaps the life of an individual, the book is not a biography, or even a fictional one. Nor is it really a novel, since it offers no plot line, no characterization, no description of relationships. There are many names and many references to historical figures, but the story is definitely not, the author often prefers to drop an almost random personal opinion along with a name. Orlando meets and even spends time with various literary figures from the past, notably Pope, whom he even dates from time to time.

The writing is often poetic, but Orlando is not poetry, nor is it a poetic novel. Some markers are needed, so here are some highlights from the text to illustrate both Virginia Woolf’s inventiveness and also how the proof often seems disjointed, like random flashbacks in a dream.

“What’s the use of being a good young lady in the prime of life,” she asked, “if I have to spend every morning looking at blue bottles with the Archduke?”

“Life and a lover” – a line that didn’t scan and didn’t make sense with what was before – something about the correct way to wet sheep to avoid scab. Reading it she blushed and repeated:

“Life and a lover”.

He started. The horse stopped.

“Ma’am,” the man yelled, jumping to the ground, “you’re hurt!”

“I’m dead, sir!” She answered.

Minutes later they got engaged.

Orlando lives for the better part of 400 years, at least within these pages, and has numerous different lives, both as a man and as a woman. He is a man, becomes a woman, marries and has children, and then becomes a man again. He or she is a writer, a poet, a courtier, whatever the page seems to demand of him or her. Orlando shows a bit of character, not to mention consistency within these different identities. The character increasingly feels like a vehicle for the creator’s personal grievances about him. On several occasions, the reader appears to occupy the back seat of a taxi, with the driver repeatedly saying, “And another thing…”, over his shoulder.

It may or may not be relevant, but it should be noted that Virginia Woolf, for all her talent as a writer, for all her skills as a dream-word image builder, was mentally unstable, and became more unstable as she grew older. aged. The unfortunate observation about Orlando is that the book seems to be a haphazardly assembled, almost disconnected series of thoughts, wishful thinking, memories, prejudices, malicious digs, and opinionated diatribes. However, Orlando isn’t a minor achievement for any of this either, containing some real gems, but also a lot that is impenetrable and dark.

What is clear, throughout, is Virginia Woolf’s version of 1920s feminism. It provides a thread that unites the bones of this book, but it is a thread that is far from golden, and the skeleton thus constructed has an unrecognizable shape or form. Furthermore, in fact, she often seems optimistic, almost defeatist in her analysis, more often than not equating “feminine” with poverty, ignorance, or failure, even when the female characters themselves, as individuals, are nothing short of assertive. . It may, of course, be that he is projecting stereotypes associated with the people he describes, but it is difficult to convince himself of this, as consistency is not a word that can be used to describe Orlando, who is a unique book, his success a genuine achievement. of a vivid and strange imagination.