A-Room-of-Ones-Own

ARoomofOne'sOwnByVirginiaWoolf1929第1页共68页原版英语阅读网ONEBut,youmaysay,weaskedyoutospeakaboutwomenandfiction—what,hasthatgottodowitharoomofone’sown?Iwilltrytoexplain.WhenyouaskedmetospeakaboutwomenandfictionIsatdownonthebanksofariverandbegantowonderwhatthewordsmeant.TheymightmeansimplyafewremarksaboutFannyBurney;afewmoreaboutJaneAusten;atributetotheBrontësandasketchofHaworthParsonageundersnow;somewitticismsifpossibleaboutMissMitford;arespectfulallusiontoGeorgeEliot;areferencetoMrsGaskellandonewouldhavedone.Butatsecondsightthewordsseemednotsosimple.Thetitlewomenandfictionmightmean,andyoumayhavemeantittomean,womenandwhattheyarelike,oritmightmeanwomenandthefictionthattheywrite;oritmightmeanwomenandthefictionthatiswrittenaboutthem,oritmightmeanthatsomehowallthreeareinextricablymixedtogetherandyouwantmetoconsidertheminthatlight.ButwhenIbegantoconsiderthesubjectinthislastway,whichseemedthemostinteresting,Isoonsawthatithadonefataldrawback.Ishouldneverbeabletocometoaconclusion.Ishouldneverbeabletofulfilwhatis,Iunderstand,thefirstdutyofalecturertohandyouafteranhour’sdiscourseanuggetofpuretruthtowrapupbetweenthepagesofyournotebooksandkeeponthemantelpieceforever.AllIcoulddowastoofferyouanopinionupononeminorpoint—awomanmusthavemoneyandaroomofherownifsheistowritefiction;andthat,asyouwillsee,leavesthegreatproblemofthetruenatureofwomanandthetruenatureoffictionunsolved.Ihaveshirkedthedutyofcomingtoaconclusionuponthesetwoquestions—womenandfictionremain,sofarasIamconcerned,unsolvedproblems.ButinordertomakesomeamendsIamgoingtodowhatIcantoshowyouhowIarrivedatthisopinionabouttheroomandthemoney.IamgoingtodevelopinyourpresenceasfullyandfreelyasIcanthetrainofthoughtwhichledmetothinkthis.PerhapsifIlaybaretheideas,theprejudices,thatliebehindthisstatementyouwillfindthattheyhavesomebearinguponwomenandsomeuponfiction.Atanyrate,whenasubjectishighlycontroversial—andanyquestionaboutsexisthat—onecannothopetotellthetruth.Onecanonlyshowhowonecametoholdwhateveropiniononedoeshold.Onecanonlygiveone’saudiencethechanceofdrawingtheirownconclusionsastheyobservethelimitations,theprejudices,theidiosyncrasiesofthespeaker.Fictionhereislikelytocontainmoretruththanfact.ThereforeIpropose,makinguseofallthelibertiesandlicencesofanovelist,totellyouthestoryofthetwodaysthatprecededmycominghere—how,boweddownbytheweightofthesubjectwhichyouhavelaiduponmyshoulders,Iponderedit,andmadeitworkinandoutofmydailylife.IneednotsaythatwhatIamabouttodescribehasnoexistence;Oxbridgeisaninvention;soisFernham;‘I’第2页共68页原版英语阅读网isonlyaconvenienttermforsomebodywhohasnorealbeing.Lieswillflowfrommylips,buttheremayperhapsbesometruthmixedupwiththem;itisforyoutoseekoutthistruthandtodecidewhetheranypartofitisworthkeeping.Ifnot,youwillofcoursethrowthewholeofitintothewaste–paperbasketandforgetallaboutit.HerethenwasI(callmeMaryBeton,MarySeton,MaryCarmichaelorbyanynameyouplease—itisnotamatterofanyimportance)sittingonthebanksofariveraweekortwoagoinfineOctoberweather,lostinthought.ThatcollarIhavespokenof,womenandfiction,theneedofcomingtosomeconclusiononasubjectthatraisesallsortsofprejudicesandpassions,bowedmyheadtotheground.Totherightandleftbushesofsomesort,goldenandcrimson,glowedwiththecolour,evenitseemedburntwiththeheat,offire.Onthefurtherbankthewillowsweptinperpetuallamentation,theirhairabouttheirshoulders.Theriverreflectedwhateveritchoseofskyandbridgeandburningtree,andwhentheundergraduatehadoaredhisboatthroughthereflectionstheyclosedagain,completely,asifhehadneverbeen.Thereonemighthavesattheclockroundlostinthought.Thought—tocallitbyaproudernamethanitdeserved—hadletitslinedownintothestream.Itswayed,minuteafterminute,hitherandthitheramongthereflectionsandtheweeds,lettingthewaterliftitandsinkituntil—youknowthelittletug—thesuddenconglomerationofanideaattheendofone’sline:andthenthecautioushaulingofitin,andthecarefullayingofitout?Alas,laidonthegrasshowsmall,howinsignificantthisthoughtofminelooked;thesortoffishthatagoodfishermanputsbackintothewatersothatitmaygrowfatterandbeonedayworthcookingandeating.Iwillnottroubleyouwiththatthoughtnow,thoughifyoulookcarefullyyoumayfinditforyourselvesinthecourseofwhatIamgoingtosay.Buthoweversmallitwas,ithad,nevertheless,themysteriouspropertyofitskind—putbackintothemind,itbecameatonceveryexciting,andimportant;andasitdartedandsank,andflashedhitherandthither,setupsuchawashandtumultofideasthatitwasimpossibletositstill.ItwasthusthatIfoundmyselfwalkingwithextremerapidityacrossagrassplot.Instantlyaman’sfigurerosetointerceptme.NordidIatfirstunderstandthatthegesticulationsofacurious–lookingobject,inacut–awaycoatandeveningshirt,wereaimedatme.Hisfaceexpressedhorrorandindignation.Instinctratherthanreasoncametomyhelp,hewasaBeadle;Iwasawoman.Thiswastheturf;therewasthepath.OnlytheFellowsandScholarsareallowedhere;thegravelistheplaceforme.Suchthoughtsweretheworkofamoment.AsIregainedthepaththearmsoftheBeadlesank,hisfaceassumeditsusualrepose,andthoughturfisbetterwalkingthangravel,noverygreatharmwasdone.TheonlychargeIcouldbringagainsttheF