The Women's Freedom Network Newsletter July/August, 1999, Vol. 6, Number 4. A Room of One's Own -- and $50,000 a year by Claire Morgan

R ecently, I have given a good deal of thought to the acts of thinking and the recording of one's thoughts through the written word. In particular, I have been wondering about the resources needed to think and to write successfully, and about the character of those who write and think for a living. How much time is required to ponder productively? Are some places better suited to creative scribbling than others? And in an age of instantaneous communication and reaction, are attentive musings still respected and valued--indeed, are they even possible? Furthermore, is womens' experience of the cerebral life any different from men's today? After further thought and some preliminary investigation, it occurs to me that the answer to these questions is, like so many things in life, that "it depends." But I have discovered a couple of things.

Naturally, I began my consideration of this subject with Virginia Woolf's classic, A Room of One's Own. Published in 1929, the essays contained in that book tell us something about the requirements of the literary life, and give particular attention to the need for women's financial independence (the "five hundred pounds a year"). Of course, Woolf was not concerned with professional women (journalists, writers or academics), but rather with individuals who were independently wealthy. As Mary Gordon notes in her introduction, "Woolf is concerned with the fate of women of genius, not with that of ordinary women; her plea is that we create a world in which Shakespeare's sister might survive her gift, not one in riter and thinker needs to cultivate a certain disposition towards the world, a mind that is curious about the reason why things are as they are, and perhaps an ability to imagine them differently. Furthermore, good critical and constructive thinking requires a certain sort of schizophrenia since one must continually think about the thinking that one is engaged in, to examine the phrases and the way that the thoughts and concepts fit together (or not) as if one were a stranger, reading the work for the first time, rather than the author. But, at bottom, thinking and writinq require discipline and patience. One needs an ability to get up every day and sit down in front of a computer, to spend long periods of time alone, deep in thought. Unfortunately, much of the rest of the world does not conduct its business in this manner, and often does not respect those who do, which is why, in the absence of a house full of servants, an answering machine and email, if used properly, are indispensable. And herein lies the crucial difference between the fate of women writers in Woolf's time and our own.

There are numerous opportunities for women to write these days; since Woolf's time there has been a tremendous shift in the pace of life, affecting both men and women. The problem these days is trying to write and to think in an age dominated by massive amounts of information, telephones, email, and the internet (i.e. an increasingly frenetic pace of life that demands that one act, and interact, with others almost constantly.) This is in direct opposition to the need for solitude that must be a basic condition of all truly thoughtful activity. For most women today--indeed most people who wish to write--the need for financial security has been replaced by the hectic pace of life and the need to engage in multi-tasking (fulfilling several tasks simultaneously.) Writing in the Washington Post recently, Iris Krasnow complains about what is lost: "How can we sink into the moment when we are perpetually jolted by ringing purses and vibrating beepers? Seduced by what's about to happen, we are often unable to savor what's happening. Time, our richest natural gift, is always crunched and splintered and hurried."

So we have replaced Woolf's dilemma (lack of financial resources) with another--a lack of time and the appreciation for what it takes to think seriously and deeply. Perhaps Virginia Woolf's epigram might be revised to read: "It is necessary to have $50,000 a year, a room of one's own with a lock on the door, plus an answering machine, an email account, and some reliable household appliances..."

References

Virginia Woolf, "A Room of One's Own," (New York: Harcourt Brace Jovanovich, 1929).