Lolly Willowes, Sylvia Townsend Warner

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As I have mentioned before, I got my second year reading list a few weeks ago. And so, with due resignation, I signed on to Amazon, and ordered nearly forty novels, that comprises the entirety of the second year of university. My novels arrived and I was rather pleasantly surprised to find Lolly Willowes on my reading list. Unlike many of the novels for the upcoming year, it is rather short, and in comparatively simple prose. It isn’t overtly dense with meaning, because superficially it seems as though it is just a story about a sheltered woman, living in a tiny village, who becomes a witch.

However, I was asleep one night, and I ended up dreaming about the novel, imagining Lolly as a witch. The novel explores not just the parameters of the family unit, but also looks into ideas about marriage and the stigma of spinsterhood. Spinsterhood remains stigmatised even today, whoever was a much more obvious issue at the time of writing, 1926. The novel also discusses the idea of feminism in a rather oblique fashion. By empowering Lolly to go out into the world, alone, Sylvia Townsend Warner created a novel that supported Woolf’s rather more explicit literature, that also empowered women to go out into the world. The novel is significant in its own right, because of the subliminal message of strength it puts across. However it transcends into a network of early twentieth century literature, becoming a part of a literary network that also included Woolf, Mansfield, and other great female modernist writers.

The novel is not a modernist text in terms of linguistic style. It is written in the form of the Victorian novel, following a traditional structure in terms of time constraints, and character construction. This can be related to the fact that the novel itself is set in the patriarchal society of Victorian England. Lolly’s life, up until her move to Great Mop, is controlled by her brother, who represents the height of patriarchal control within England. Lolly is often considered as being passed around, almost as a package of no consequence. By moving along, and reclaiming herself, she becomes a woman in her own right, outside the control of her brother.

Conversely however, Lolly does fall under the influence of another male persona; Satan himself, disguised as a friend. By her assumption of his control over her, something that is never quite clarified for the reader, we see a necessity of patriarchy that structures all of Lolly’s actions. Whilst she is free, and has come under the influence of Satan somewhat willingly, there is still an echo of patriarchal society underpinning her world view.

The power dynamic that exists between Lolly and Satan is extremely interesting, because he is a kind of optional and yet inevitable patriarchal influence. There is a degree of resignation throughout the last couple of chapters in the novel, resigning Lolly to Satan’s eternal influence. To this extent, we can question the feminist tone that flows throughout the novel, and the extent to which it is effective.

If anything however, Lolly Willowes is very entertaining!

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(1) http://static.guim.co.uk/sys-images/Books/Pix/covers/2012/3/12/1331563702226/Lolly-Willowes-Virago-Modern.jpg

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Sarah Alice Goes Back To (relative) Normality

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There’s been great excitement in  my life recently, because of a new laptop, and a brand new reading list, for my second year at university. The relief I felt to know I was allowed to return was immense; I’d all but convinced myself that I was destined for smaller things, and would have to move back in with my parents for eternity. And it’s nice to go home of course, but a lifetime is a very, very long time to still be driving your mum’s car, and eating your mum’s dinners.

The reading list for next year is fantastic; much more modern, with far less emphasis on the intricacies of mythology. I’m extremely excited about these modules, mainly because they are the reason I applied for the course in the first place. The modules of first year were an introductory gallop through the history of literature and theory; the second year looks at literature from the eighteenth century to the present day, which is a time period I feel much more comfortable with. I suppose that a literature course has to consider all the facets of literature, from its ancient beginnings. But personally, I shall be happy enough moving on from the ancient world, into the Victorian world, and then the post-modern world.

So, first year is finished, and has been passed. This is something I find reassuring, as though it wasn’t all wasted, as if I’ve done something truly productive this year. I have moved out of my flat, and subsequently, into my new flat. And I think my writer’s block is finally starting to lift, which is something again, that I find reassuring. It’s been weeks, and despite venturing outside, and trying to find things to write about, I just couldn’t think of anything worth saying about very much at all. Work has been a little bit hectic too, which is yet another reason why I’ve had absolutely nothing to say; waitressing doesn’t tend to inspire any ideas, except rants against irritating guests.

The end of the tunnel is being revealed to me however; my new laptop literally sparkles with CPU processing power, and my sleepy brain is starting to be creative and shiny again. Myself and the gym have reawakened a slightly abandoned friendship, which is producing a chemical influx, which is in turn making my brain work again. Examinations called a rather abrupt halt to my ability to write about anything but how stressed I was. And now there’s other things to do; like plan for my trip to Washington, and explore my fundraising ideas for Kenya, next summer. It’s all looking shiny and happy, like an intellectual Disneyland, as it were.

So now I’ve bored you all to death, telling you about the reawakening of my brain, and I promise that tomorrow I’ll write something vaguely interesting. Promise!

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(1) http://sarahalicewaterhouse.files.wordpress.com/2012/06/normal.jpg?w=235

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A Childhood of Magic: Harry Potter and the Gang

The Collected Covers (1)

When somebody asked me what my favourite book of all time was, only one thought sprang to my head; but this thought was in a way childish, and so I began to scan through my mental list of the classics, to find something appropriate to reply to this question with. In the end however, my search through my own head was fruitless; it was Harry Potter.

Being eight years old at the time it came out, I was fascinated by the idea of witches, wizards, and an entire underworld existing that I, a muggle, couldn’t be a part of. Unless… and wasn’t it an obvious solution… I’d simply become a witch!

And there it was; I spent two years reciting spells such as “expelliarmus!” and waving around sparkly pencils, and trying to make inanimate objects move. And by the time I was eleven, I was completely ready for an invitation to study at Hogwarts. And when eventually the expected letter was not marked with the infamous red wax seal, and instead came from secondary school and had an ugly green stag on it, the first wave of realisation occurred: I am not magic. The disappointment was extraordinary. This was possibly my first experience of real disappointment.

Hogwarts: A Small Child's Second Home (2)

The camaraderie of the books was what enticed me the most; at primary school (until about the age of 16), I was a tiny, skinny thing, with curly ash blonde hair that never quite looked right, and had braces and glasses. I was quiet, despised reading aloud, and therefore, people tended to ignore me completely, or make up inventive and original nicknames. I found lunchtime in the library the highlight of my day, especially when I could go and explore the decadent, grandiose world of witches and wizards. The imagery and the ideas were beyond my comprehension, and for a long time, I simply refused to believe it wasn’t real. And when the first film was released, and my parents took me to go and see it, this only compounded my unshakeable belief that magic is real. I found it so realistic in fact, that I told my parents everything that was going to happen in the film before it did.

Nevertheless, I persevere in believing in Harry Potter, even though now I’ve developed a slightly wider world view and study English at university. The magic, and the hold it has on children is almost incomprehensible, and I think that to some children at least, it sparks their first interest in reading, and the world of books. I certainly owe my interest in literature to J.K Rowling.

I’d like to continue to believe in the magic of Hogwarts, because it was magical when I was little. And in the same way as I refuse blindly to consider the possibility of Father Christmas not being real, I will blindly refuse to believe that I’m not a witch, because, well… why ever not?

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(1) http://sarahalicewaterhouse.files.wordpress.com/2011/11/harry-potter-books.jpg?w=300

(2) http://thesecondempire.files.wordpress.com/2011/07/hogwarts-castle1.jpg

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