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Mrs. Dalloway (Annotated) [Paperback]

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  • Category: Books (Fiction)
  • Author:  Woolf, Virginia
  • Author:  Woolf, Virginia
  • ISBN-10:  0156030357
  • ISBN-10:  0156030357
  • ISBN-13:  9780156030359
  • ISBN-13:  9780156030359
  • Publisher:  Mariner Books
  • Publisher:  Mariner Books
  • Pages:  304
  • Pages:  304
  • Binding:  Paperback
  • Binding:  Paperback
  • Pub Date:  01-Jul-2005
  • Pub Date:  01-Jul-2005
  • SKU:  0156030357-11-MING
  • SKU:  0156030357-11-MING
  • Item ID: 100094645
  • Seller: ShopSpell
  • Ships in: 2 business days
  • Transit time: Up to 5 business days
  • Delivery by: Oct 28 to Oct 30
  • Notes: Brand New Book. Order Now.

Harcourt is proud to introduce new annotated editions of three Virginia Woolf classics, ideal for the college classroom and beyond. For the first time, students reading these books will have the resources at hand to help them understand the text as well as the reasons and methods behind Woolf's writing. We've commissioned the best-known Woolf scholars in the field to provide invaluable introductions, editing, critical analysis, and suggestions for further reading. These much-awaited volumes are the first of many annotated Woolf editions Harcourt plans on publishing in the coming years.

This brilliant novel explores the hidden springs of thought and action in one day of a woman's life. Direct and vivid in her account of the details of Clarissa Dalloway's preparations for a party she is to give that evening,Woolf ultimately managed to reveal much more; for it is the feeling behind these daily events that gives Mrs. Dalloway its texture and richness and makes it so memorable.

Annotated and with an introduction by Bonnie Scott
MRS. DALLOWAY SAID she would buy the flowers herself.

For Lucy had her work cut out for her. The doors would be taken off their hinges; Rumpelmayer's men were coming. And then, thought Clarissa Dalloway, what a morning-fresh as if issued to children on a beach.

What a lark! What a plunge! For so it had always seemed to her, when, with a little squeak of the hinges, which she could hear now, she had burst open the French windows and plunged at Bourton into the open air. How fresh, how calm, stiller than this of course, the air was in the early morning; like the flap of a wave; the kiss of a wave; chill and sharp and yet (for a girl of eighteen as she then was) solemn, feeling as she did, standing there at the open window, that something awful was about to happen; looking at the flowers, at the trees with the smoke winding off them and the rooks rising, falling; standing and looking until Peter Walsh sal*