Everything's on sale

One of the most prevalent viewpoints in our society is that money doesn't buy happiness, and material possessions do not equate to character. However, is this notion actually a big ploy by all the rich people to keep all the miserable poor to middle class obliviously content? For a society that values morals and ethic so highly we certainly spend a lot of time trying and admiring- almost worshiping- wealth and all of its perks.

Indeed, it seems now that getting a college education is no longer a goal a goal to strive for but rather a means to an end- "to earn a living". Many students are not looking for a way to "develop critical inquiry...or the ability to keep learning" but rather a path that will lead them to money. Yet who can blame them, "literally and truly, one cannot get on well in the world without money".

"For only 5 cents a day you can feed a starving child. They eat pennies." 

As an inherently greedy species, money is a way that, ironically, highlights and diminishes the avarice of humans. Fundamentally a way to let those that "deserve" more live better, it doesn't always work the way it is intended to. It brings out the qualities of cruelty, selfishness, diligence, and hard-work It causes crimes and destruction, and brings people together.

To live without money is to "live out of the world"  but even with the supreme purchasing power of money, intangible objects like emotional satisfaction and spirituality are some of the things humans value the most.

Unless it's somehow abolished, currency will probably be the most important thing in our lives, but it is up to the discretion of each of us to decide whether that is bad or not.

Can I be you

When watching "The Hours", every minute detail seemed to be of vast significance. As it should be, "The Hours" is based on based on a book where every single character's thoughts are conclusive to the eventually outcome of the story. When I was trying to analyze the movie to find the significance of certain events, certain exposition, certain developments of the movie, there were almost too many connections to make. "The Hours" creates a parallelism all throughout the movie that not only links all three timelines into a cohesive unit, but also connects to Mrs. Dalloway in a way that gives even more insight into the original book.

In the movie, everyone is everybody. On the surface, it is obvious to say that Clarissa is a modern day Mrs. Dalloway, with Richard being Richard Dalloway. However, is Laura Brown- Richard's mother also Clarissa? They're both two women struggling with themselves and their families. And if Laura Brown is reflective of Clarissa, does that make her husband Richard Dalloway, or is he Septimus, an innocent man looking to start a family after returning home from the war? Clarissa and Leonard Woolf are both editors, trying to aid their ailing, writing, loved one. Is Clarissa both Mrs. Dalloway and Mr. Dalloway then? However, the beautiful thing is the accuracy of every interpretation. All the characters are separated in such a way that makes them all part of the same story. Like the pages of a book, every second is as important as the hour it comprises.

So appalled

It was a dreadful pity. For that made Septimus cry out about human cruelty - how they tear each other to pieces, The fallen, he said, they tear to pieces. "Holmes is on us" he would say, and he would invent stories about Holmes; making himself roar with laughter or rage, for Doctor Holmes seemed to stand for something horrible to him. "Human nature," he called him.

Desperately suffering from his post-traumatic stress disorder, Septimus has an entirely different perspective on life after his war experience. Septimus has been subjected to the worst that humanity has to offer. He has been exposed to not only the physical violence of war, but also its aftermath. Septimus has suffered mentally, having to live with the memories of the fighting; as well as emotionally, constantly having hallucinations of his dead comrades, being driven to insanity by the guilt of surviving while all his friends had perished.

Septimus comes to the realization that people are the cause of his anguish: the militants he has had to fight against, the people in his country that he has had to fight for, and his dead comrades that he has had to fight with. Septimus then manifests this frustration for humanity in Doctor Holmes. It is interesting how Septimus creates this entity to seem so benign yet so malevolent at the same time.  Inventing stories that create uproarious laughter,  Septimus does battle with Holmes constantly. He battles the good-natured, almost foolish doctor, because he knows that the doctor is responsible for all of his suffering. Septimus, as the fallen, tries to pick up his torn pieces.

Soulmates become soulless

"But Lucrezia Warren Smith was saying to herself, It's wicked; why should I suffer? she was asking, as she walked down the broad path. No; I can't stand it any longer, she was saying, having left Septimus, who wasn't Septimus any longer, to say hard, cruel, wicked things, to talk to himself, to talk to a dead man, on the seat over there...Slightly waved by tears the broad path, the nurse, the man in grey, the perambulator, rose and fell before her eyes. To be rocked by this malignant torturer was her lot. But why? She was like a bird sheltering under the thin hollow of a leaf, who blinks at the sun when the leaf moves: starts at the crack of a dry twig. She was exposed; she was surrounded by the enormous trees, vast clouds of an indifferent world, exposed; tortured; and why should she suffer? Why?


This passage vividly illustrates the effect that Septimus's condition not only has on himself, but on those surrounding him. Septimus, a victim of PTSD after World War I is tormented by memories of his time on the warfront, hallucinations of his dead comrades, and recollections of his life as a soldier. However, Woolf's use of Lucrezia's narration makes it seem as if she is suffering as much as Septimus from his illness. Septimus's PTSD has completely erased any trace of what he used to be. Described as a "dead man", Septimus is essentially an empty shell. Septimus exists, yet lacks presence. Ironically, his death on every level except the physical one has freed him from the pain of his own life. Now, Lucrezia is the one being hurt. The "malignant torturer" that is Septimus's condition leaves Lucrezia feeling "exposed". A "bird" in a foreign land, she shelters under the only familiar thing- her husband. However, as his state begins to waste away, his "thin hollow" is blown away by the wind of his PTSD, and there is no help for her- only the "vast clouds" of the indifference of the world to her troubles. "Exposed" and "tortured", Lucrezia's feelings reflect the condition of their unholy matrimony.