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Woolfian Boundaries - Clemson University

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•<br />

Nearly seventy years later, in the summer of 2004, I reconnected with Virginia Woolf<br />

when one of my assistants discovered three letters Woolf had written me in 1935 and<br />

1936. Th rilled with the discovery, my editor, Philip Turner, announced: “Stop everything<br />

you’re doing. Remember, you wrote the fi rst doctoral thesis on Virginia Woolf’s work. I’m<br />

going to publish it in its entirety, including these three newly discovered letters and also<br />

her diary entries about you.”<br />

Th e book, entitled Virginia Woolf: Th e Will to Create as a Woman, appeared in 2005.<br />

It had been my fi rst book, and now it was my eighteenth. My two children and I agreed<br />

with my friend, the novelist Cynthia Ozick: “Th ese letters do not belong to you and your<br />

children. Th ey belong to the world.” On 12 December 2005, we donated them to the<br />

Berg Collection in the New York Public Library. Woolf scholars can now fi nd them in the<br />

Collection among the 28 volumes of her diaries and more than 100 of her letters.<br />

•<br />

In 2006, the annual Virginia Woolf Conference held in Birmingham opened my eyes<br />

to the global scope of Virginia Woof’s infl uence. When I wrote my thesis in 1932, there<br />

was no such person as a “Virginia Woolf scholar.” At the conference, however, I was accepted<br />

by a group of brilliant and enthusiastic Woolfi ans from all over the world. Some<br />

had even come from Australia, China, and Japan. Th ere I learned from some of the older<br />

scholars that my study was the only one available to them during the rediscovery of Virginia<br />

Woolf by American and British feminists in the 1960s.<br />

Th e conference reawakened my understanding of how much I owed to Virginia<br />

Woolf. She helped me fi nd the courage to write as a woman, and to use words and images<br />

as my tools to fi ght injustice. Th roughout the rest of my life, the words she spoke to me at<br />

52 Tavistock Square were written across my heart: We had such hope for the world.<br />

I wish I could tell her that, despite everything, I still have hope.<br />

viii

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