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Fiction

Notes to the world around her. Woolf once described insanity as a form of death because its intense
loneliness created a human void for the sufferer. In Clarissa’s parties, she fights this emptiness,
this void. Clarissa brings people together and thus, creates a human dialogue. She creates life,
and thus, sanity. What at first seems quite superficial and vain becomes quite substantial and
meaningful upon reflection.
Miss. Kilman, however, is one character that cannot be helped by a social offering of this type.
The woman is so embittered by her experiences, beliefs, and station in life, that she refuses to
open herself to anything that is offered, especially by one viewed as a socialite, such as
Clarissa. Her hold on Elizabeth, though, is quite strong and a sexual relationship between the
two women is even hinted at. Yet, their connection breaks down during the trip to the store
and café. Miss. Kilman is extremely self-involved and dependent as shown by her attempts to
keep Elizabeth with her. The image of Miss. Kilman gobbling down her cake stands as a
metaphor for her personality. Though Doris Kilman hungers for companionship and acceptance,
she is unable to see beyond the cake in front of her. The text describes the desperation of Miss
Kilman when Woolf states, “If Doris Kilman could grasp Elizabeth, if she could clasp her, if
she could make her hers absolutely and forever and then die; that was all she wanted.”
Consumed with jealousy and rage, she loses her grasp on her young friend, becoming nothing
more than a ridiculous caricature “fingering the last two inches of a chocolate éclair.”

Part II, Section Four Summary
Miss. Kilman sat alone, despondent. She had lost her Elizabeth. Clarissa had won, after all.
She wandered off, forgetting her petticoat until someone ran after her. Miss. Kilman headed
for a sanctuary of religion. She joined others in the Abbey and knelt in prayer. Elizabeth also
wandered. She enjoyed the niceness of the day and decided to take a bus ride. Her life was
changing. Already men were falling in love with her. She felt that the attention was silly.
Elizabeth wished only to play in the country, with her father. She sat on the bus and enjoyed
the fresh air. Meditating on Miss. Kilman, she wondered if Miss Kilman’s idea about the poor
was correct. She paid another penny so that she could continue riding the bus onto the Strand,
a working quarter of London. Miss. Kilman had said that all professions were open to women
of Elizabeth’s generation and so Elizabeth thought she might become a doctor, politician, or
farmer. She was a lazy child, but the ride motivated her. The people in the Strand rushed
about with such importance. Nearing St. Paul’s cathedral, she knew it was getting late and she
turned for home.

The sun was setting in the Strand as Septimus looked out his window. To him, nature danced
through the sunlight on the walls. Rezia dreaded seeing Septimus smile as he often did.
Sometimes he would demand that she record his thoughts. She would write down his words,
logical or not, on Shakespeare, war, and beauty. Lately, he would suddenly cry out about
truth and seeing his old friend, Evans. The doctors had said he should not get excited, but he
did. He would speak of Holmes in terms of the evil of human nature. To Septimus, all this was
true. This day, Rezia sat sewing a hat for Mrs. Peters, a woman she did not like but who had
been nice to the Smiths. Septimus watched Rezia’s form and found it perfect. He asked her
about Mrs. Peters and her family. He opened his eyes to observe how real the objects in his
home were. He held a normal conversation with Rezia about the Peters’ which made her very
happy. They joked about the hat that would be too small for big Mrs. Peters and Septimus
designed the pattern to decorate the top of the hat. Rezia happily sewed his pattern on and
Septimus was very pleased. Rezia would always love the hat they created.

Septimus made Rezia try the hat on. The girl with the evening paper arrived. Rezia danced
around with her, laughing, as Septimus read aloud from the paper. Septimus fell asleep,

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