Question

Kew Gardens by Virginia Wolff Long pauses came between each of these remarks; they were uttered in toneless and monotonous voices. The couple stood still on the edge of the flower bed, and together pressed the end of her parasol deep down into the soft earth. The action and the fact that his hand rested on the top of hers expressed their feelings in a strange way, as these short insignificant words also expressed something, words with short wings for their heavy body of meaning, inadequate to carry them far and thus alighting awkwardly upon the very common objects that surrounded them, and were to their inexperienced touch so massive; but who knows (so they thought as they pressed the parasol into the earth) what precipices aren't concealed in them, or what slopes of ice don't shine in the sun on the other side? Who knows? Who has ever seen this before? Even when she wondered what sort of tea they gave you at Kew, he felt that something loomed up behind her words, and stood vast and solid behind them; and the mist very slowly rose and uncovered—O, Heavens, what were those shapes?—little white tables, and waitresses who looked first at her and then at him; and there was a bill that he would pay with a real two shilling piece, and it was real, all real, he assured himself, fingering the coin in his pocket, real to everyone except to him and to her; even to him it began to seem real; and then—but it was too exciting to stand and think any longer, and he pulled the parasol out of the earth with a jerk and was impatient to find the place where one had tea with other people, like other people. "Come along, Trissie; it's time we had our tea." "Wherever does one have one's tea?" she asked with the oddest thrill of excitement in her voice, looking vaguely round and letting herself be drawn on down the grass path, trailing her parasol, turning her head this way and that way, forgetting her tea, wishing to go down there and then down there, remembering orchids and cranes among wild flowers, a Chinese pagoda and a crimson crested bird; but he bore her on. "Kew Gardens" by Virginia Woolf

Answer 1

In the excerpt from "Kew Gardens" by Virginia Woolf, we are presented with an intimate and contemplative scene that encapsulates the complexities of human relationships and the subtleties of shared experiences. The couple, characterized by their tentative interactions and muted voices, stands at the edge of a flower bed, symbolizing both their connection and their hesitance.

The imagery of the parasol being pressed into the earth serves as a metaphor for their relationship—an act that is both mundane and significant, suggesting a desire to establish a shared space in a world that feels overwhelming and vast. The couple's actions and the underlying tension in their dialogue hint at unexpressed thoughts and feelings, drawing attention to the inadequacy of language to fully convey their emotional states. Woolf's choice of language reflects the weighty silence that often accompanies profound feelings, as the couple grapples with the immense significance of their experience, however transient it may be.

As they contemplate the simple act of having tea, the narrative hints at larger themes of domesticity, societal expectations, and the desire for connection. The mention of “little white tables” and “waitresses” juxtaposes their private thoughts with the external world, blurring the line between the ordinary and the extraordinary. The excitement and hesitation in their voices reveal a shared journey into an unfamiliar but alluring environment, one filled with both beauty and uncertainty.

Woolf's use of descriptive language and vivid imagery invites readers to reflect on the beauty of small moments and the complexities of human interactions. The characters’ longing for deeper connection, as well as their awareness of the world around them, underscores the intricate dance of intimacy and distance—a theme that resonates deeply throughout Woolf’s work. The excerpt ultimately captures the essence of life’s fleeting moments and the significance we ascribe to them, prompting readers to consider the hidden depths within seemingly simple experiences.