Two Female Writers + True Friendship + Romantic Love = Brilliant Literature
The Love Letters between Virginia Woolf & Vita Sackville-West
The Backstory
Here at the Feather, we’re interested in all parts of the writing process; which means there can be no shyness in re-examining the “Greats” according to any and all aspects of their writing life. The intimate and complex relationship between Vita Sackville-West & Virginia Woolf is expressed largely through their letters, but we know from copious other artists in their circle, that their relationship prospered because it was born in the community of writers and artists that comprised the Bloomsbury Group (more on that, below). Most articles reviewing the book focus on the correspondence as a channel of freedom; some sort of safe space where the two women could express themselves more openly than they may otherwise have been able to in the early 20th century—but isn’t that just a voyeur’s projection?
The women were in love with each other and had slept together—there are multiple instances in the collected letters memorializing this fact. It is possible that the letters were an overflow of emotion, rather than the secret trove of hidden passion that is often described (especially in the film adaptation). If Vita & Virginia were this open in their written correspondence, who am I to categorize the letters as steamy secrets the women passed in shadow?
More evidence points to the letters as the mere overflow of what their lives actually looked like—Virgina and her sister, Vanessa Bell were both members of the Bloomsbury Group and Vita’s love for Virginia was no secret between her and her husband.
The chief one seems to me to be that, as you say, we should have to eradicate politeness. We can get to the point of calling each other prigs and adulterers quite happily when the company is small & select, but its rather a question whether we could do it with a larger number of people who might not feel that they were quite on neutral ground
—Vanessa Bell, Letter from Vanessa Stephen to Clive Bell, n.d. [1905]
The Bloomsbury Group were elitist and wealthy, but they utilized a tool that we still use today—community as the artist’s church. Sure, social constraints are real, and in the 1920s, LGBTQ+ relationships were not viewed the same way as they are now—but what of the world of these two writers, who found freedom in their correspondence, supporting each other emotionally and creatively?
Their affair began in 1922 and influenced Woolf's novel "Orlando," inspired by Vita. (The main character is a man who transforms into a woman, inspired by Vita). The relationship endured beyond their romantic involvement, remaining a deep friendship until Woolf's death.
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The Letters
From Sackville-West to Woolf
Milan [posted in Trieste]
Thursday, January 21, 1926
I am reduced to a thing that wants Virginia. I composed a beautiful letter to you in the sleepless nightmare hours of the night, and it has all gone: I just miss you, in a quite simple desperate human way. You, with all your un-dumb letters, would never write so elementary phrase as that; perhaps you wouldn’t even feel it. And yet I believe you’ll be sensible of a little gap. But you’d clothe it in so exquisite a phrase that it would lose a little of its reality. Whereas with me it is quite stark: I miss you even more than I could have believed; and I was prepared to miss you a good deal. So this letter is just really a squeal of pain. It is incredible how essential to me you have become. I suppose you are accustomed to people saying these things. Damn you, spoilt creature; I shan’t make you love me any the more by giving myself away like this—But oh my dear, I can’t be clever and stand-offish with you: I love you too much for that. Too truly. You have no idea how stand-offish I can be with people I don’t love. I have brought it to a fine art. But you have broken down my defences. And I don’t really resent it …
Please forgive me for writing such a miserable letter.
V.
From Woolf to Sackville-West
52 Tavistock Square
Tuesday, January 26
Your letter from Trieste came this morning—But why do you think I don’t feel, or that I make phrases? ‘Lovely phrases’ you say which rob things of reality. Just the opposite. Always, always, always I try to say what I feel. Will you then believe that after you went last Tuesday—exactly a week ago—out I went into the slums of Bloomsbury, to find a barrel organ. But it did not make me cheerful … And ever since, nothing important has happened—Somehow its dull and damp. I have been dull; I have missed you. I do miss you. I shall miss you. And if you don’t believe it, you’re a longeared owl and ass. Lovely phrases? …
But of course (to return to your letter) I always knew about your standoffishness. Only I said to myself, I insist upon kindness. With this aim in view, I came to Long Barn. Open the top button of your jersey and you will see, nestling inside, a lively squirrel with the most inquisitive habits, but a dear creature all the same—
The Takeaway
If you’ve never heard of Virginia Woolf before this post, then it probably wasn’t for you anyway—but if you’d read A Room of One’s Own in college and perhaps hadn’t seen Orlando on a syllabus, there’s plenty of culturally sensitive reasons why your Professor would have omitted it.
The most fascinating piece of the collected letters, in this writer’s humble opinion, is not that they were steamy and passion-filled, but that they outline the true grey of writer relationships, (get your mind out of the gutter, it’s not all about sex) which depend on the flow of our most vulnerable emotions, darkest secrets, and most child-like dreams. What else would you call that, but love?
Grab a copy of the letters here (all of them!!).