Thoughts on Peace in an Air Raid by Virginia Woolf

Author:Virginia Woolf
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780141957050
Publisher: Penguin Books Ltd
Published: 2009-09-10T16:00:00+00:00

Why?

When the first number of Lysistrata appeared, I confess that I was deeply disappointed. It was so well printed, on such good paper. It looked established, prosperous. As I turned the pages it seemed to me that wealth must have descended upon Somerville, and I was about to answer the request of the editor for an article with a negative, when I read, greatly to my relief, that one of the writers was badly dressed, and gathered from another that the women’s colleges still lack power and prestige. At this I plucked up heart, and a crowd of questions that have been pressing to be asked rushed to my lips saying: ‘Here is our chance.’

I should explain that like so many people nowadays I am pestered with questions. I find it impossible to walk down the street without stopping, it may be in the middle of the road, to ask: Why? Churches, public houses, parliaments, shops, loud speakers, motor-cars, the drone of an aeroplane in the clouds, and men and women all inspire questions. Yet what is the point of asking questions of oneself? They should be asked openly in public. But the great obstacle to asking questions openly in public is, of course, wealth. The little twisted sign that comes at the end of a question has a way of making the rich writhe; power and prestige come down upon it with all their weight. Questions, therefore, being sensitive, impulsive and often foolish, have a way of picking their asking place with care. They shrivel up in an atmosphere of power, prosperity, and time-worn stone. They die by the dozen on the threshold of great newspaper offices. They slink away to less favoured, less flourishing quarters where people are poor and therefore have nothing to give, where they have no power and therefore have nothing to lose. Now the questions that have been pestering me to ask them decided, whether rightly or wrongly, that they could be asked in Lysistrata. They said: ‘We do not expect you to ask us in –,’ here they named some of our most respectable dailies and weeklies; ‘nor in –,’ here they named some of our most venerable institutions. ‘But, thank Heaven!’ they exclaimed, ‘are not women’s colleges poor and young? Are they not inventive, adventurous? Are they not out to create a new –’

‘The editor forbids feminism,’ I interposed severely.

‘What is feminism?’ they screamed with one accord, and as I did not answer at once, a new question was flung at me: ‘Don’t you think it high time that a new –’

But I stopped them by reminding them that they had only two thousand words at their disposal. Upon that, they withdrew, consulted together, and finally put forward the request that I should introduce one or two of them of the simplest, tamest, and most obvious. For example, there is the question that always bobs up at the beginning of term when societies issue their invitations and universities open their doors –

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