Book Review: A Room of One's Own, by Virginia Woolf (1929)

Since Virginia Woolf’s domination of The Guardian’s list of the 100 best novels of all-time—she scored 5 books on the list—I’ve thought “I should read more of her work.” I picked up A Room of One’s Own at a used bookstore, thinking that I had read it in college, but as I was paging through it, I thought “Hmmm, this has 6 chapters and 125 pages? I think I only read part of it.” Now I can say that I’ve actually read all of A Room of One’s Own. 

First published in 1929, A Room of One’s Own is Woolf’s examination of the hurdles that women face in writing fiction. 97 years later, it’s still a very relevant book. One of the parts that struck me the most is the passage in which Woolf is describing how much power and control men exert over public life at that time. “With the exception of the fog he seemed to control everything. Yet he was angry...it seemed absurd, I thought, turning over the evening paper, that a man with all this power should be angry.” (p.42-3) Yes, that’s it exactly! Think of today’s “manosphere,” which is just spewing toxic anger and vitriolic misogyny. For decades, maybe even centuries, white men have been terrified of losing power, either to non-whites or to women. And Woolf captures that ridiculous anger perfectly. 

Woolf famously wrote that in order to write, a woman needs 500 pounds a year, and “a room of one’s own.” How much would 500 pounds a year be in 2026? According to the Bank of England’s inflation calculator, which can calculate how prices have changed going back to 1209, 500 pounds in 1929 would be 28,375 pounds in 2026. That’s $38,707 in US dollars. $38,700 is a good amount of money, but it wouldn’t necessarily be enough to support yourself if that was your only source of income. It might be able to support you if you were a single woman living in a small town, but if you’re trying to live in midtown Manhattan, $38,700 won’t last you very long. But $38,700 would certainly be a nice cushion if you were getting that much money from, say, an inheritance. 

Woolf comes down a little hard on Charlotte Brontë. Woolf clearly loves Jane Austen, and while she appreciates Brontë, she can’t help but compare the two authors. Woolf writes of Brontë: “she will never get her genius expressed whole and entire. Her books will be deformed and twisted. She will write in a rage where she should write calmly. She will write foolishly where she should write wisely...She is at war with her lot. How could she help but die young, cramped and thwarted?” (p.81) Yikes. It’s hard because our brains always compare two things. Thing A is like this, so Thing B is the opposite. Writer A is like this; Writer B is like that. Two writers will always be different because they are different people, so they will inevitably produce two different works of art, even if they are trying to write about the same subject matter. Some people write calmly, and some people write with fire and fury. 

At the end of Chapter 5, Woolf writes of her fictional female author Mary Carmichael, “Give her another hundred years...she will be a poet...in another hundred years’ time.” (p.106) We’re almost 100 years past Woolf’s book. I don’t claim to be any kind of expert on the current state of women writing fiction, so it would be fascinating to read a leading contemporary female author tackle the same subject that Woolf did, 100 years later.

I’d highly recommend A Room of One’s Own; it’s a fascinating and engaging read. 

Book Review: My Impressions of the Wolfe Family and of Maxwell Perkins, by William B. Wisdom (1993)

William B. Wisdom is an important figure in Thomas Wolfe studies, as it was Wisdom that purchased Wolfe’s papers and manuscripts after Wolfe’s death and donated them to Harvard University. Two pamphlets of Wisdom’s writings about Wolfe were published by the Thomas Wolfe Society: The Table Talk of Thomas Wolfe, which recounted Wisdom’s meetings with Wolfe in New Orleans in 1937, was published in 1988, and My Impressions of the Wolfe Family and of Maxwell Perkins was published in 1993. The Table Talk of Thomas Wolfe is the more interesting volume, as it gives the reader some insights as to what Thomas Wolfe was like. 

My Impressions of the Wolfe Family and of Maxwell Perkins focuses on Wisdom’s purchasing of Wolfe’s papers and manuscripts from the Wolfe family after Thomas’s tragic early death in 1938 from tuberculosis. Wisdom was aided in his quest by Wolfe’s editor Maxwell Perkins. Perkins was more than just an editor, he was a true friend and mentor to Thomas Wolfe, and the Wolfe family put a lot of trust in Perkins. Scribner’s was the publishing house where Maxwell Perkins worked, and in addition to editing Wolfe, Perkins was also the editor for F. Scott Fitzgerald and Ernest Hemingway. It’s pretty amazing that Perkins was editing three of the greatest American authors of that era. 

Julia Wolfe was the matriarch of the Wolfe clan, and she was a shrewd businesswoman who ran a boardinghouse and owned a substantial amount of property in Asheville, North Carolina. Wisdom knew that staying on Julia’s good side was key to maintaining a good relationship with the Wolfe family. 

It’s fascinating to read about the mundane details of Wolfe’s papers, like how Wisdom bought a huge storage trunk to transport Wolfe’s papers in. Wisdom also gives the reader an idea of the other Wolfe siblings. Suffice it to say, the Wolfe family was full of colorful characters, as anyone who has read Look Homeward, Angel will know. 

What I found to be one of the most interesting parts of the book was the section where Wisdom discussed Perkins’ and Wolfe’s differences. Perkins and Wolfe were always at separate poles politically, and Wisdom writes “Wolfe as he grew older was becoming more and more affected by social consciousness, which verged toward socialism.” (p.38) In some of Wolfe’s later short stories like “I Have a Thing to Tell You” and “The Party at Jack’s,” his social consciousness comes to the forefront and emerges as a core theme. I wonder how Wolfe’s political ideas would have evolved had he lived longer, and if his emerging social consciousness would have continued to be a theme in his work. 

Book Review: The Table Talk of Thomas Wolfe, by William B. Wisdom (1988)

The Table Talk of Thomas Wolfe is a slim volume, written by William B. Wisdom and published by the Thomas Wolfe Society in 1988. Among Thomas Wolfe fans, William B. Wisdom is an exalted figure. It was Wisdom who bought Wolfe's manuscripts and papers and donated them to Harvard University, where they currently reside in the Houghton Library. 

Wisdom met Thomas Wolfe when he was living in New Orleans, and Wolfe visited the city in January of 1937. Wisdom already thought that Wolfe was the greatest American author of his generation, and he was ecstatic when he learned that Wolfe was in town. Wisdom then contrived to spend as much time as possible with Wolfe. 

Wolfe comes out of the book very well, as he is polite, kind, and indulgent of Wisdom's desire to hang out with him. Wisdom is completely star-struck by Wolfe, which he admits, and he comes off as a bit of a pest and a weirdo. Not dangerous or anything, mind you, but just a bit too intense. 

It's tricky. Wisdom has one shot, or actually more than one, since Wolfe keeps hanging out with him, to tell his hero that he thinks he is the most important writer in America today. But every time Wisdom tries to draw Wolfe out about his own writing, Wolfe clams up, or deflects the line of questioning. I can't really blame either man for acting the way they do. If I had one opportunity to tell F. Scott Fitzgerald what his writing has meant to me, I'd probably turn into the same obsessive fan that Wisdom comes off as. But that being said, what is Wolfe supposed to say when Wisdom tells him he's the most important American writer? That's a bit of a conversation stopper. 

In my limited conversations with notable people, I've found it's better to under praise than over praise. Honestly, they've probably heard so many people tell them how great they are that it doesn't mean anything anymore. The first time I met Robyn Hitchcock, way back in 2009, I earnestly told him that I thought he was one of the greatest songwriters of our time. He laughed and said, "Well, I'm certainly one of the oldest." I had made a statement that gave him no real way to react. I had made a huge blanket statement declaring my true fandom. And what was Robyn Hitchcock supposed to say back to me? So, he deflected it with a joke. I've never had the opportunity to have an extended conversation with Robyn Hitchcock, but the times I’ve met him since then I've tried to just be a little more relaxed, a little more normal. After a show while he's signing autographs I'll say, "I've seen you a bunch of times and always enjoyed it," or tell him I was glad he played a specific song. And that works. He can say “Thank you very much,” and we can both go on our way, neither one embarrassed. 

Wisdom’s story about how he met Wolfe is fascinating. Wisdom had learned from a friend that Wolfe was in town, and shortly after learning that fact, Wisdom saw Wolfe walking down the street. Their eyes locked, and they started a conversation. Connection made. Wisdom later had lunch with Wolfe and another writer, E.P. “Pat” O’Donnell, who had recently published a novel titled Green Margins that was quite successful. 

Wisdom writes about having lunch with Wolfe: “I tried several times, without avail, to get Tom to talk about himself. It was no go. Nor would he discuss his books.” (p.28) 

One of the interesting tidbits about Thomas Wolfe was this one: “He said that one of his favorite books and undoubtedly the most interesting, was the World Almanac, that it contained more things of interest than anybody he knew.” (p.30) I found that quite interesting and could perhaps help to explain Wolfe’s love of lists in his writing. 

Wisdom asked Wolfe what he thought of several contemporary writers. About F. Scott Fitzgerald, Wolfe said only “Poor Scott.” (p.49) Scott was going through a pretty terrible period in his life in early 1937, so Wolfe’s comment was quite accurate. 

Wisdom even admits to the reader that he opened a note that Wolfe wanted him to deliver, then Wisdom re-copied the note so he could keep the original note in his collection! I’m not quite sure what the ethics on that are, but Wolfe never learned of Wisdom’s deception. 

The Table Talk of Thomas Wolfe is an interesting little volume for fans of Wolfe. 

Book Review: Thomas Wolfe, by C. Hugh Holman, University of Minnesota pamphlets on American Writers

American author Thomas Wolfe's status in American literature was at a high level in 1960. That year, when Wolfe was profiled for the University of Minnesota's "Pamphlets on American Writers" series, the pamphlet about his life and work was number 6. The first 5 writers had huge reputations in 1960, and still do today: Ernest Hemingway, Robert Frost, William Faulkner, Henry James, and Mark Twain. While the numbering of the pamphlets is not meant to suggest a strict numerical ranking, the fact that Thomas Wolfe was number 6, as opposed to number 60, tells us something about the fine standing he enjoyed in 1960.  

Wolfe's critical standing has slipped since then. None of his novels were chosen for the 1998 Modern Library list of the 100 Best Novels written in English during the 20th century. The UK newspaper The Guardian made a splash recently with their list of the 100 Best Novels of all-time, and not only was Wolfe not on the list, none of his 4 novels received any votes from any of the 172 experts surveyed. Those of us who know and love Wolfe’s writing can appreciate his unique voice—he was an American original. To put it simply, I read Thomas Wolfe because there’s something in his writing that I can’t find anywhere else in literature.  

I attended, and spoke at, the annual meeting of the Thomas Wolfe Society last week in Wolfe's hometown of Asheville, North Carolina, and it was a pleasure to chat with so many fellow Wolfeans. There will always be an audience for Wolfe's style, even if it has gone out of critical favor. 

The author of the pamphlet on Thomas Wolfe was C. Hugh Holman, who edited The Short Novels of Thomas Wolfe and The Thomas Wolfe Reader. As much as Holman obviously admired Wolfe's work, he also critiqued Wolfe as well. At the end of the pamphlet, Holman writes that Wolfe's work had "an intensity and a beauty of language unsurpassed by any other American prose writer," but he also adds that Wolfe's novels contain "passages of very bad writing and of irrelevant action." (p.43)  

Holman does an excellent job outlining Wolfe's life and fiction in only 45 pages. One of the quotes that struck me the most was in a letter Wolfe wrote to his editor Maxwell Perkins in 1930: "I believe I am at last beginning to have a proper use of a writer's material: for it seems to me he ought to see in what has happened to him the elements of the universal experience." (p.25) I think Wolfe hit the nail on the head—what a writer chooses to write about will invariably be colored by their own autobiographical experience, but in order to craft something successful, they must be able to connect it to a larger whole.  

Holman writes about how in Wolfe's work "this vision of man possessed of tragic grandeur—essentially the vision of the nineteenth-century Romantic—is presented with great intensity." (p.41) I read that and nodded my head in agreement. And the quote made me think of F. Scott Fitzgerald. Both Wolfe and Fitzgerald were Romantics, with a capital R. The idea of tragic grandeur reminded me of this quote from a letter Fitzgerald wrote: "I am not a great man, but sometimes I think the impersonal and objective quality of my talent, and the sacrifices of it, in pieces, to preserve its essential value has some sort of epic grandeur." Leading Fitzgerald and Wolfe scholar Matthew J. Bruccoli titled his biography of Fitzgerald Some Sort of Epic Grandeur. Both Wolfe and Fitzgerald saw the individual in heroic terms. Both men had little use for most of the institutions of modern society: government, the military, business, organized religion, but they did not allow their dismissal of these institutions to turn into a bitter cynicism. There was still a Romantic optimism that the individual might be able to transcend this sordid plane of existence, if only for a brief, fleeting moment.  

Holman's pamphlet on Thomas Wolfe is an insightful study into this great American author.