Exploring Many Minds

 Content Notes: mental illness, psychosis, suicide, death.

As discussed in my last post, the namesake of the novel Mrs. Dalloway, Clarissa Dalloway, is the central character of the novel. As such, the story generally revolves around Clarissa’s thoughts. However, the nature of this book is that the point of the story is clearly not strongly related to the adventures or ideas of a single character. Rather, the book is a wide-panned observation of the English public in the time between World War I and II. The metaphorical camera of the story pans in third-person omniscient style, moving from Clarissa, to Peter Walsh, to Lucrezia Smith, and her ill husband, Septimus Smith. 

A character we revisit in this section of the book demonstrates the imminently dark side of post-War society. Septimus Warren Smith survived World War I without a scratch—physically, that is. He was promoted in the army, considered of high standing, and given awards for his service. He made a close friend of his commanding officer, Evans. Woolf provides imagery to establish the softness of the friendship between the two men, likening them to “two dogs playing on a hearth rug” (Woolf 86). The dog representing Septimus is “worrying a paper screw, snarling, snapping, giving a pinch, now and then, at the old dog’s ear,” while the older dog, Evans, is “lying somnolent, blinking at the fire, raising a paw, turning and growling good-temperedly” (Woolf 86). The two have a deep bond, “[they] had to be together, share with each other, fight with each other” (Woolf 86). When Evans is killed in combat, Septimus is fine... a bit too fine. When reacting to the death of his friend, Septimus “congratulated himself on feeling very little and very reasonably,” just as “[the] War had taught him” (Woolf 86). The onset of this stiff-upper-lip manner marks the beginning of the decline of Septimus’ mental health. Septimus recognizes that he should feel something towards his friend’s death but can’t due to the desensitization he has experienced because of the War. Still, he berates himself for this numbness, claiming “there was no excuse; nothing whatever the matter, except the sin for which human nature had condemned him to death; that he did not feel” (Woolf 91). The fact that he thinks that “[he] had not cared when Evans was killed; that was the worst” seems to incite a self-loathing/self-aggrandizing mental upset that progresses over time. Initially following Armistice, Septimus experiences occasional “sudden thunder-claps of fear... He could not feel” (Woolf 87). His emotional numbness becomes a source of severe anxiety and dread. Septimus’ life slowly becomes devoid of meaning—not even taste or beauty had any “relish to him” (Woolf 87). As time goes on, he becomes more and more paranoid and certain of humanity’s inherent evil. When his wife Lucrezia wants kids, Septimus is against the idea, as he feels that “[one] cannot bring children into a world like this. One cannot perpetuate suffering, or increase the breed of these lustful animals [humans], who have no lasting emotions, but only whims and vanities...” (Woolf 89). As one could imagine, the trauma of the War combined with this grim outlook on life leads Septimus into utter despair. When he upsets Lucrezia with his coldness, she cries, and as “[his] wife was crying... he felt nothing; only each time she sobbed in this profound, this silent, this hopeless way, he descended another step into the pit” (Woolf 90). His mental health spirals downwards into what today would likely be diagnosed as schizophrenia and a mood disorder, but is met with what today would be considered medical malpractice. Septimus becomes suicidal, thinking graphically of ways to end his internal suffering (Woolf 92). He becomes convinced of a number of hallucinations, including the presence of his late friend Evans and the fact that Septimus himself is all at once a kind of ruler, prophet, and morally condemned criminal. 

However fictional, Septimus’ suffering is difficult to witness because of the raw integrity of his experience. I imagine that Septimus’ mental health is drawn from, at least in part, Woolf’s own struggles. Woolf’s childhood trauma, mental illness, and multiple suicide attempts are well documented. Horrifically, she was sexually abused and molested by her half siblings from a very young age (Boeira). Combined with a history of mental illness on both sides of the family, it is not surprising that Woolf would struggle with bipolar disorder (Boeira). She attempted suicide numerous times and went through severe manic and depressive episodes before finally succumbing to a suicide attempt through drowning (Boeira). It is likely that she also suffered from psychosis, just like her character Septimus, as well as neuroprogression, the gradual “rewiring” of the disordered brain resulting in increased sensitization to manic and depressive episodes and therefore the progression of bipolar disorder—something likely reflected in the progression of Septimus’ worsening mental health (Boeira). Eerily, Septimus repetitively refers to himself as a “drowned sailor” (Woolf 93). Imagery of Septimus as “a drowned sailor on a rock” is especially upsetting considering Woolf’s death (Woolf 69). Experiencing a psychotic episode, Septimus imagines, “I leant over the edge of the boat and fell down... I went under the sea. I have been dead, and yet am now alive, but let me rest still; he begged...” (Woolf 69). Woolf passed away nearly 20 years after the publishing of Mrs. Dalloway, but it is clear in this novel and her writing that she was already considering drowning as a suicide plan, and that she must see herself in Septimus. 

Clarissa provides a stark contrast to Septimus. While she can at times seem erratic and overly introspective, Clarissa has a zest for life. Her former love interest, Peter Walsh, reflects on this zest for life Clarissa maintains, thinking, “of course she enjoyed life immensely. It was her nature to enjoy” (Woolf 78). Furthermore, Peter attests that there is no “bitterness” in Clarissa, and she “enjoyed practically everything” (Woolf 78). Additionally, Peter rather bitingly describes her magnetism, thinking of her as enchanting not because she was “striking; not beautiful at all; there was nothing picturesque about her; she never said anything particularly clever,” yet, “there she was” (Woolf 76). This analysis via Peter characterizes both Clarissa and Peter. Clarissa is a generally happy, sociable, magnetic person, and Peter is very much hung up on her. Having been good friends for so long, combined with Peter’s apparent melodramatic nature and rather harsh critics, Peter notices the good and the bad about Clarissa. He spares her no kindnesses when he thinks of her, yet he seems to be always thinking of her. He defends his reminiscing on their relationship and the past by internally protesting that it’s only because he just saw Clarissa, and “women live more in the past than we do” (Woolf 55). He insists that he is no longer in love with Clarissa, but it feels like neither the reader nor Peter is entirely convinced by this. Whereas Clarissa is wholly likeable—magnetic, just like Peter says—Peter is a bit of a pain. He’s constantly creating drama, “passion,” out of nowhere, and it in every sense a hopeless romantic. Just after proclaiming he is in love like never before with a married woman back in India, he pursues a stranger on the street who he spies as an “attractive young woman” (Woolf 52). He crosses the street to follow her on her errand, and, while never approaching her, fabricates a whole personality for her and even begins to compare her to Clarissa. He thinks, “[there] was a dignity about [this woman]. She was not worldly, like Clarissa; not rich, like Clarissa. Was she, he wondered as she moved, respectable? Witty, with a lizard’s flickering tongue, he thought... a cool waiting wit, a darting wit; not noisy” (Woolf 53). Peter is a true misogynist, constantly pursuing and judging the women he finds attractive. He’s certainly interesting as a character but seems very insufferable.

The style of stream of consciousness and the talent Woolf shows in her writing develops these extremely rich and very different characters. We see darkness in Septimus, sadness in Lucrezia, light in Clarissa, and lots of drama in Peter.

Works Cited

Boeira, Manuela V., et al. “Virginia Woolf, Neuroprogression, and Bipolar Disorder.” Brazilian Journal of Psychiatry, vol. 1, no. 39, 2017, pp. 69-71. US National Library of Medicine, https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC7112729/. Accessed 3 3 2021.

Woolf, Virginia. Mrs. Dalloway. Harcourt, 1925.