Difficult to be host and post...I know there must be gaps...hard to keep up with the discussion as I brewed coffee, served the wine, drank a lot of wine, etc. (One unstated rule, is that we have snacks and drinks at book group. Perhaps that rule has added to the group's longevity?)
Here are some disjointedly written and remembered statements. (Please add to or correct sister book groupers.)
The sponsor of the book remembered her first reading of this novel. In her youth the theme of women's right was powerful. Twenty odd years later the theme of aging struck her more deeply.
All agreed that it is still, today, more acceptable for men to live a self-fulfilling life...not to mention the contemplative, passionate, artistic life Lady Slane wanted to have. And that women, perhaps more than men, conspire to keep each other in a narrowly defined role of wife and mother. Also mentioned was how privileged Lady Slane was to be able to regret in leisure, her choice of marriage instead of art, especially in contrast to her servant Genoux's regrets.
A number of members felt the characters were one-dimensional...in particular Lady Slane's children. On the other hand, a member talked about how moved she was by the Lady Slane's scenes with her great-granddaughter. (An aside: This member, unable to purchase the book, listened to the CD version read by a British actress, Wendy Hiller. And loved the experience.)
The artists among us, felt that Lady Slane's pining for a thwarted career as a painter rang false. I hope I get this right...to them an artist is a passionate person who cannot suppress the desire to create. Lady Slane was fooling herself; she was regretting something that she probably would have never achieved. She had never even picked up a paint brush. Other members, felt that her dream of being a painter was a metaphor for the human desire for passion, romance, finding a personal reason for living. It didn't matter that she would be unable to paint...it is the freedom to pursue this dream, any dream, that would have made her happy.
Only after her husband died, did Lady Slane find "a room of her own." ...but she didn't paint in it...she spent time in it just being herself. The sponsor read a poem by Vita Sackville West that reflects the author's need for a similar kind of space and time. Here's the beginning of it...
Days I enjoy are days when nothing happens,
When I have no engagements written on my block,
When no one comes to disturb my inward peace,
When no one comes to take me away from myself
And turn me into a patchwork, a jig-saw puzzle,
A broken mirror that once gave a whole reflection...
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