I came to a love of the writing of Virginia Woolf slowly. When I read To the Lighthouse at university, I wasn't sure if I loved it or even if I liked it. In fact, I remember telling my tutor that I 'hated' it - but that may have been an exaggeration to generate some discussion. Our tutes were always slow to get off the ground.
Then, about 22 years ago, I discovered Virginia's diaries in Belconnen Library. Hardback first editions, never borrowed by anyone. (To my knowledge, only I and one other person every borrowed them. They aren't available any more.) I was hooked. Since then, I have read the diaries, the biographies, some of the letters and essays and novels. In fact, To the Lighthouse has become one of the books I am likely to read every year or two. Single volumes of the diaries have been packed in my hospital bags and, to celebrate the end of my chemotherapy, I bought myself a first edition set of the diaries. Hardback. Beautiful. There is still a huge volume of work I haven't read but I will, there's time.
Visiting Monk's House in Rodmell in East Sussex has been something I've long wanted to do. On this most recent trip, Jim and Miles humoured me and we spent about three hours wandering in the garden and looking at the little house. It is a little house. When Virginia first saw it, she commented on how tiny it was. There was no toilet, no bathroom. There were many reasons why she and Leonard shouldn't buy it, not least of which was that they had already bought another house in nearby Lewes.
But all her objections were nothing when she looked at the garden. The garden is still the most glorious part of the property. It falls into four sections - the walled area behind the house, the orchard that leads to Virginia's writing lodge, a large lawn that looks across to the chalk cliffs of the downs, and the kitchen garden. Today, the garden is looked after by a team of volunteers - they do a magnificent job.
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| The path through the formal walled garden to the house. |
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| Looking through the orchard to the writing lodge. |
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| A wintry vege patch and the neighbouring church. |
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| The east lawn - you can see chalk cliffs in the distance. |
The National Trust manages the property and now you can even rent rooms for a few days (and don't think that hasn't gone on my 'to do' list). They have thoughtfully left tennis racquets and lawn bowls in old tin boxes for visitors to use. Miles and I played tennis and bowls on east lawn, just like Virginia and Leonard once did. There's a small shop in what was once Leonard's garage and, before that, was the village forge. And apples from the orchard are still harvested and are contributed to the village's apple festival.
Visiting Monk's House offered a glimpse into another world - a writer's world but also a world that has long past. It's a miracle, really, that the gardens were preserved and that the land wasn't divided up and parcelled off. It's a miracle that we could explore the garden, walk through the rooms and enjoy the magic of the landscape. Just like it's a miracle that we still have some many of Virginia's wonderful words. In this little corner of England, time has stood still.
PS I have updated my blog list with some of the interesting blogs and sites I've discovered while we've been away. If you would like to read Virginia Woolf's thoughts on diaries, follow the link to Brain Pickings to read a terrific post.
