Mrs. Dalloway is one of those modern classics (published in 1925) that I somehow managed to bypass in the course of my reading. I actually started it once before but became bogged down after only 20 pages or so. This time, I found myself caught up in the story’s unfolding through the thoughts and memories of the heroine, Clarissa Dalloway, over the course of a single June day in London. She is preparing for an important party that evening. The novel travels forward and back in time and in and out of the various characters’ minds, constructing an image of Mrs. Dalloway’s life and the social milieu of post-Great War England. A complementary character is Septimus Warren Smith, a shell-shock veteran who has retreated into a private world and ends the day by committing suicide. Mrs. Dalloway and he never meet, but their lives are connected by external events and news of his death is casually mentioned at Clarissa’s party. Richly observed, it is a story that stays with you.
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