I have finally finished reading this classic stream-of-consciousness novel, Mrs Dalloway.
The language of this novel possesses unique aesthetic value. The narrative often presents a fragmented state. The flow of characters' thoughts lacks clear boundaries and order, with temporal shifts occurring at any moment. The language resembles a constantly changing river—sometimes clear, sometimes murky. Woolf blurs the boundaries of time, with characters' emotions and memories existing solely in the present tense.
I was reminded of an example and reflection mentioned by Yi Zhou in *The Southern Weekend Fiction Writing Course*, which I was reading at the same time:
What makes a novel better?
Even walls are doors, like the Taoist priests of Laoshan Mountain, who can simply walk through walls to enter. What appears to be a wall is a door.
by pengcheng95