“There is a sound made by a room full of people at a party. It’s a radio between stations with a stretch and pop and one voice coming into focus and certain stories turning up like bingo balls from the collective burble. I love this sound.I throw parties for
The Paris Review. ...
Mrs. Dalloway is a novel about the rich interior life of humans in a metropolis, the minds of people inevitably tangled with each other. The mind we enter most often is that of a woman just past fifty on a day she throws a party in London in June of 1923. ... Virginia Woolf herself is famous in part for escaping, and drawing attention to, this fate. Clarissa excels then with what she has: parties, memories, loyalties, ‘a woman confessing, as to her they often did, some scrape, some folly,’ the florist ‘who thought her kind,’ and her servants, who respect her so much that, when taking her parasol, they ‘handled it like a sacred weapon.’ ...”
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