Virginia Woolf has an odd short story called “A Society.” The plot is about a group of girls who form a society. They vow that none of them will marry or have children until they can determine what men have been doing all the this time and whether it was worth it for women to spend their youth in bearing an raising them:

We have gone on all these years assuming men were equally industrious [as their mother and grandmothers who have had ten or more children], and that their works were of equal merit. While we have borne the children, they, we supposed, have borne the books and the pictures. We have populated the world. They has civilised it. But now we can read, what prevents us from judging the results?

And so they set off, each with a different topic to investigate. They hold regular meetings and make reports.

We meet up with them five years later and it is clear that they are frustrated and tired and starting to wonder why they are doing what they are doing and a few of them wonder why they shouldn’t all just give up the society and get married and have children. Elizabeth, who dressed like a man and was taken for a reviewer, gives her report. She has been reading new books including those by the most popular authors for the last five years. The girls want to know if the men have surpassed Jane Austen and George Eliot, if the men’s books were good. But Elizabeth talks around the answer as if she has been reading too many reviews with lots of words and nothing to say.

The girls press her again, demanding the truth. She replies,

‘The truth? But isn’t it wonderful,’ she broke off–’Mr Chitter has written a weekly article for the past thirty years upon love or hot buttered toast and has sent all his sons to Eton–’

‘The truth!’ we demanded.

‘Oh, the truth,’ she stammered, ‘the truth has nothing to do with literature,’ and sitting down she refused to say another word.

In the end, they can’t come to any kind of conclusion, though men come off looking rather silly and the girls, by this time young ladies, are all rather frustrated. The only conclusion they can reach is that they must teach their girl children to believe in themselves. They give up their society, and pass their meeting notes to the younger sister of one of the society members. The child bursts into tears.

Obviously Woolf had a point to make with this story. Supposedly it was written in response to an article by a woman who was disparaging the intellect of women. No one has been able to find the article Woolf noted in her diary. But that’s okay because we have Woolf’s story. It is a story that is not written in the usual Woolfian style. It is straightforward and plain and trying to make a point. The ending feels rather like a cop out, as though Woolf didn’t know the answer herself and instead of trying to propose one, the ladies give up and pass the problem off to the next generation who is none too happy about it. Perhaps Woolf thought that hers was not the generation to figure it out. But I kind of wish she would have tried.

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