As I was in my early twenties and had a whole apartment to myself, I wondered about this small separate space within a large, handsome lakehome. And then of course, I remembered Virginia Woolf.
I thought of Woolf again today when reading the New York Times. The story about a married couple who share a trailer but keep separate sanctuaries--hers a very feminine one-room cottage that she renovated herself (the carpentry! the purchasing of supplies! the books inside!)--seemed a contemporary version of the Woolf narrative.
And although the NYT seems to be pushing a childhood theme (the gingerbread! the woods!), there is no Big Bad Woolf here, just a very resourceful woman who built her own house. And it won't be blown down by huffing and puffing.
5 comments:
The parents of the boyfriend?? :-)
I saw that article and loved it. I mean, her space doesn't work for me, but it is a balm for her soul. And she's done it so faithfully.
You know I have a room of my own - the sew-ga room. It is a great luxury.
If I had that fairy tale cottage I don't think that I would want to share it either....unless there was a handsome prince in the vicinity.
My husband usually occupies the living room while I occupy the bedroom when we want time to ourselves. It's worked out well.
Is it very unfeminist of me that my first thought was that I would love my He-weasel to build me such a space( sans gingerbread)?
This has been one of the ongoing "issues" [I hate that word, but it seems to accurately name the ongoing exhaustion of our marital argument] in my life. I so, so miss having a "room of one's own." Every member of my family has a room of their own (and the dog has a cage).
Envious, am I.
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