Still Without A Room Of Their Own

I first discovered Virginia Woolf during my mid-teens, during the mid 1970’s, whilst immersed within “that” crucible of change, encouraged by the flux of advancing western liberalism, that period during the latter half of the 20th century which some refer to as the western social revolution, a period which included the summer of love, hippydom, flower-power and liberation for women, and, by osmosis, the liberation of men also.

I perceived, at that impressionable age, a world in which “progress” was linear. By this I mean that I was of the opinion that “everyone” of my generation, globally, had already got on board the “love train” and that “m-m-my generation” would be more progressive, more inclusive, more equal, than the previous one, and that this progress would continue, generation upon generation, until, at some point, in the not too distant future, the human race would achieve the condition of a kind of liberal, secular, nirvana, if you will. How disappointed I’ve been, to realise, throughout the past forty years, that this belief was born of youthful naivety, and though it would be unfair not to acknowledge that there have been great strides made, in the west at least, we’re still a long way from that nirvana I imagined, and, some might say, due to recent global developments, seemingly getting further away by the day.

Having recently rediscovered a rather dog-eared copy of a penguin classic edition of Ms Woolf’s “A Room of Ones Own” within the shelves of my library, I decided to give it another go, to see if it still stands-up, establish if what she wrote in 1928, when the book grew out of a lecture upon women in fiction that she gave to Girton College, Cambridge, still holds water, still has relevance, at the beginning of the 21st century.

Its well documented that what had started life as a tentative analysis upon the role of women in literature has, since, become acknowledged as one of the greatest feminist polemics of the 20th century. So, speaking as I do as a man, I realise that I need to choose my words very carefully, and with all due respect.   From a male perspective, for example, how does one begin writing a piece which touches upon the subject of the role of the other half of our race without opening one’s self to criticism, without attracting the charge of false sentiment, or simply “not getting it”.

So, here goes - I’ll begin by saying that, in my opinion, and by the practice of having lived with, worked with, locked horns with and argued with, opposed, supported, and loved a myriad of women, as equals, and in many cases as my superior, intellectually speaking, that is, throughout the past fifty-five years (my immediate family was  largely populated by females, by which I mean that the vast majority of my family were, by  birth, women) as I alluded to earlier, women’s rights and opportunities are, on the whole, in the west, far more in evidence and available to exploit (in the most positive sense) than hitherto. I qualify this statement by relating this - coming, as I do, from a relatively humble working class background I’m aware that neither of my grandmothers would have dreamed of attending university, gaining access to the lawns, quadrangles, chapels and libraries (full of books written by men, for men) which had been equally out of bounds during their youth as they had been to the women VW spoke of. To have gained high qualification and progress onward to becoming an architect, for example, standing equally along-side their colleagues of either sex and a variety of gender, as my daughter has done  just a couple of generations later, would not have been considered plausible for someone of their sex and/or their social standing. 

On the contrary, and I cast no aspersions upon the character of my grandfather’s here, they, my grandmothers, and their fellow females, were effectively imprisoned by society from the moment they married - not-withstanding the period during the second world war, when many women occupied roles unavailable to them months before, and for generations before that, which were “essential to the war effort”. Under normal circumstances they were coerced, by convention, into collaborating with the tradition which dictated that a woman’s place was in the kitchen, and in supporting and advocating anything and everything her husband does, decides, and/or believes, to be seen and not heard, used and not complain, in fact, to be grateful. At the point of marriage they abdicated any personal ambition and desire they might have held, and contented themselves, if, in fact, they were ever content, in keeping house, raising the children, supporting their man, and growing old prematurely, through the effects of hard work from dawn til dusk throughout  the whole of their “useful lives”.

Rare thinkers, like VW, began to challenge these notions. By discussing the issues surrounding virtual domestic slavery, women, at the beginning of the 20th century, began to rediscover personal ambition, and began to express it , much to the chagrin of the establishment. 

Though we still clearly have a long way to go, the progress  which has already been achieved throughout the past hundred years, or so, haven’t merely benefitted the female half of the race. Men too have been liberated through the liberation of women, and I, for one, am very thankful for it. Without the necessity of women to follow tradition and convention, neither are men bound into having to. The LGBT revolution, which many have celebrated recently, has also been born from the effects of the general liberalisation of western culture, which was sparked by the liberation of women. As Newton implied, we really do stand on the shoulders of giants.

However, just as we begin to pat ourselves on our backs, celebrate our own epoch’s achievements, and heap praise upon that race of giants who preceded us, we find ourselves questioning our own open, outward looking, all-encompassing sense of liberty, as “it” comes under attack from other sources.

In recent months the UK has voted to leave the European Union, largely, it seems, because a significant proportion of the population wish to end the free movement of people within Europe and curb immigration into the UK. The Republican Party in the USA has elevated a, seemingly, extremely uncouth, closed and bigoted man to run in the forthcoming presidential elections. The Pro-Life movement seeks to remove women’s rights to abortion, under any circumstance. ISIS continue to wreak havoc across the middle-east and within Europe, or at least lay claim to the havoc wreaked, and have, apparently, enslaved hundreds, if not thousands, of women, for their own use and sexual gratification. The Turkish Leader, Recep Tayyip Erdogan, has, in the past few days, revoked all human rights within his country, in an attempt to control and defeat his secular opponents. Over 103,000 women currently living in the UK have been forced to suffer FGM, either within the UK or elsewhere. Arranged marriage is still enforced within some cultures within the UK, and so called honour killings are still being perpetrated if/when a young woman (in some cases children) refuse to marry the much older man she’s been bought by. Some American right-wing Christians are advocating arranged marriages between fellow right-wing Christians. Muslim clerics within the UK, in recent months, have expressed that women ought not be allowed to drive a car, leave the house without their husband’s permission and/or a chaperone, leave the town in which they live without their husband, be seen in public without being completely veiled, or, as was expressed only this week, laugh in public.

Vaginia Woolf, her contemporaries, and heirs, I think its fair to say, couldn’t possibly have imagined where the unleashing of liberty might have taken us. The consequences of which beg the questions “how much liberty is enough liberty?”… “can, or should, liberty ever be limited?”… and “if it is, is it really liberty at all?”

When the UK, and the west generally, opened its doors to the world it might have been expected, by those of us of a liberal nature, that most of those individuals who sought to take-up residence in the west where doing so because they revered and sought-out western liberal values which have endured throughout the latter part of the 20th and early part of the 21st centuries. Even with the large-scale acceptance, promotion even, of multi-culturalism, might we not have expected a 360° acceptance of the tolerance necessary for all cultures to live, cheek-by-jowl, in the spirit of peace and cohesion, and the adoption of those liberal values which we hold so dear? Otherwise, why come to the west at all.

I think VW might, as she sat in the window of her dining rooms, in 1928, observing crisp, golden, windblown leaves dancing across the quad, on that bright October morning, have felt a cool seismic shudder, a forewarning of the inevitable earthquake to follow, had she fully contemplated how others might utilise the privileges afforded by liberty and equality, once achieved, in order to, ironically, express and enforce their own brand of patriarchal prejudice, bigotry, and abuse.

However, I’m sure that she would have adhered to the conviction that liberty and equality ought to be allowed the chance to find a voice and to thrive, despite the fact that some would corrupt its privileges to their own ends.

I think she’d have been right. I believe that the human condition, ultimately, seeks freedom, equality and fairness for all, despite the colour of our skin, our race, our culture, our sex, sexuality or gender. Our general, inherent, sense of decency dictates it. We can’t actually afford for it to transpire otherwise.

 I thank VW for her conviction to liberty and equality, and for us all to be afforded a room of our own, within which we can all ruminate our own personal ambitions.

In conclusion, I propose that Virginia Woolf’s “A Room of One’s Own” is as relevant today, unfortunately, despite the progress made in some areas, as it was the day she delivered it to the students in Newnham and Girton Colleges, in October 1928. If you’ve not read it, whichever sex you happen to be, whichever culture you happen to hail from, I recommend that you do. The work of progression continues. The work of progression must continue.