Clarissa and Richard Dalloway

Clarissa’s identity is associated with her husband’s. Richard loves his wife, as apparent by his struggle with the roses. He wants to tell her that he loves her, but something prevents him. Richard blames his lack of articulation on Clarissa, claiming that she is difficult to grasp as a person:

Here he was walking across London to say to Clarissa in so many words that he loved her. Which one never does say, he thought. Partly one’s lazy; partly one’s shy. And Clarissa—it was difficult to think of her except in starts, as at luncheons, when he saw her quite distinctly; their whole life. (112)

Despite having been married to her for years, he knows nothing about her. He catches glimpses during mealtimes, but has no understanding of what she does with the rest of her time. Richard, whether consciously or unconsciously, has separated himself from Clarissa’s life. In fact, he just feels blessed to be married to her: “he repeated that it was a miracle that he should have married Clarissa; a miracle—his life had been a miracle” (113). Though these lines mention Clarissa, implying that she was a miracle in his life, the end of these lines reinforce the individualization of Mr. Dalloway. It is his life that is the miracle, not Clarissa’s. He cherishes her solely for what she has done for him and his career; she is his perfect hostess.

Clarissa, who is busily writing letters as her husband walks home to delivers flowers, has her moment of silence, her peace, interrupted by the ever present chiming of Big Ben, a constant reminder that time is passing her by as she trivializes over small matter regarding her party. She pours over a letter from Mrs. Marsham about an uninvited guest, Ellie Henderson:

The sound of Big Ben flooded Clarissa’s drawing room, where she sat, ever so annoyed, at her writing-table; worried; annoyed. It was perfectly true that she had not asked Ellie Henderson to her party; but she had done it on purpose…and the sound of the bell flooded the room with its melancholy wave; which receded, and gathered itself together to fall once more, when she heard, distractingly, something fumbling, something scratching at the door. Who at this hour? Three, good Heavens! Three already! For with overpowering directness and dignity the clock struck three. (114-25)

Clarissa is caught up in a web of gossip that permeates the life she lives. She is distracted by the minor problem that has arisen regarding her party. She does not want Ellie to attend, yet Mrs. Marsham is determined to interfere in the matter. Clarissa is so distracted by these minor problems in her life, she does not realize how late in the day it has gotten. Momentarily, she lost contact with reality and is swept away on a wave produced by the sounds of the clocks, two symbols that overwhelm the contents of this rather short novel. The chiming of Big Ben serves two purposes in this scene—it brings Clarissa back to reality and it heralds the arrival of Mr. Dalloway. Critic Alex Zwerdling describes the relationship between Richard and Clarissa as “not really a betrayal of self so much as a compact between two people to live together yet allow the soul a little breathing space” (140). Clarissa even describes her relationship to Richard in similar terms:

And there is a dignity in people; a solitude; even between husband and wife a gulf; and that one must respect, thought Clarissa, watching him open the door; for one would not part with it oneself, or take it, against his will, from one’s husband, without losing one’s independence, one’s self-respect—something, after all, priceless. (MD 117)

Clarissa obviously believes that she can have an identity outside of her husband’s. In fact, she believes that all marriages, all relationships, will have a similar gulf between man and woman. One’s independence and self-respect is a priceless gift that should not be taken away by anyone. However, even though Clarissa recognizes this important gulf in relationships, she struggles to maintain the appropriate space in her own marriage.

Richard is a dominating force in the novel. He lives Clarissa feeling guilty, as if she can never live up to his expectations, and is domineering in his manners. When he enters their home bearing roses, Clarissa’s first thoughts are ones of distress: “She had failed him, once at Constantinople; and Lady Bruton, whose lunch parties were said to be extraordinarily amusing, had not asked her” (115). She is, again, almost resentful of his constant attention to the doctor’s orders regarding her health: “How like him! He would go on saying ‘An hour’s complete rest after luncheon’ to the end of time, because a doctor had ordered it once” (117). Her opinion ceases to be of any significance as she bends to the will of her husband: “He did not see the reasons against asking Ellie Henderson. She would do it, of course, as he wished” (117). As Mark Hussey points out in his critique The Singing of the Real World, “the failure of relationships, specifically of love, to ‘make of the moment something permanent’ continues to be an important theme in Mrs. Dalloway. Clarissa will continue to ask one of the most important questions of the novel as the answer, the truth of her situation, continuously alludes her: “…But—but—why did she suddenly feel, for no reason that she could discover, desperately unhappy?” (MD 117-18).

Works Cited

Hussey, Mark. The Singing of the Real World: The Philosophies of Virginia Woolf’s Fiction. Columbus: Ohio State UP, 1986.

Woolf, Virginia. Mrs. Dalloway. Orlando: Harcourt, 2005.

Zwerdling, Alex. Virginia Woolf and the Real World. Los Angeles: U of California P, 1986.