The Hours
A Novel
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4.1 • 205 Ratings
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- $11.99
Publisher Description
The Pulitzer Prize-winning novel becomes a motion picture starring Meryl Streep, Julianne Moore, and Nicole Kidman, directed by Stephen Daldry from a screenplay by David Hare.
The Hours tells the story of three women: Virginia Woolf, beginning to write Mrs. Dalloway as she recuperates in a London suburb with her husband in 1923; Clarissa Vaughan, beloved friend of an acclaimed poet dying from AIDS, who in modern-day New York is planning a party in his honor; and Laura Brown, in a 1949 Los Angeles suburb, who slowly begins to feel the constraints of a perfect family and home. By the end of the novel, these three stories intertwine in remarkable ways, and finally come together in an act of subtle and haunting grace.
APPLE BOOKS REVIEW
Inspired by Virginia Woolf’s modernist classic Mrs. Dalloway, Michael Cunningham’s breakthrough novel takes a deeper dive into the book’s subtle themes of sexual identity and mental illness. Echoing Woolf’s stream-of-consciousness style, Cunningham explores the interior lives of three women: Woolf herself; Laura Brown, a dissatisfied suburban housewife in 1949; and Clarissa Vaughan, a contemporary woman whose day mirrors Mrs. Dalloway’s episodic plot. But The Hours is way more than a brain exercise or gimmick—Cunningham has fierce empathy for his emotionally overwhelmed characters, and he writes beautifully about their sudden and intense epiphanies.
PUBLISHERS WEEKLY
At first blush, the structural and thematic conceits of this novel--three interwoven novellas in varying degrees connected to Virginia Woolf--seem like the stuff of a graduate student's pipe dream: a great idea in the dorm room that betrays a lack of originality. But as soon as one dips into Cunningham's prologue, in which Woolf's suicide is rendered with a precise yet harrowing matter-of-factness ("She hurries from the house, wearing a coat too heavy for the weather. It is 1941. She has left a note for Leonard, and another for Vanessa."), the reader becomes completely entranced. This book more than fulfills the promise of Cunningham's 1990 debut, A Home at the End of the World, while showing that sweep does not necessarily require the sprawl of his second book, Flesh and Blood. In alternating chapters, the three stories unfold: "Mrs. Woolf," about Virginia's own struggle to find an opening for Mrs. Dalloway in 1923; "Mrs. Brown," about one Laura Brown's efforts to escape, somehow, an airless marriage in California in 1949 while, coincidentally, reading Mrs. Dalloway; and "Mrs. Dalloway," which is set in 1990s Greenwich Village and concerns Clarissa Vaughan's preparations for a party for her gay--and dying--friend, Richard, who has nicknamed her Mrs. Dalloway. Cunningham's insightful use of the historical record concerning Woolf in her household outside London in the 1920s is matched by his audacious imagining of her inner lifeand his equally impressive plunges into the lives of Laura and Clarissa. The book would have been altogether absorbing had it been linked only thematically. However, Cunningham cleverly manages to pull the stories even more intimately togther in the closing pages. Along the way, rich and beautifully nuanced scenes follow one upon the other: Virginia, tired and weak, irked by the early arrival of headstrong sister Vanessa, her three children and the dead bird they bury in the backyard; Laura's afternoon escape to an L.A. hotel to read for a few hours; Clarissa's anguished witnessing of her friend's suicidal jump down an airshaft, rendered with unforgettable detail. The overall effect of this book is twofold. First, it makes a reader hunger to know all about Woolf, again; readers may be spooked at times, as Woolf's spirit emerges in unexpected ways, but hers is an abiding presence, more about living than dying. Second, and this is the gargantuan accomplishment of this small book, it makes a reader believe in the possibility and depth of a communality based on great literature, literature that has shown people how to live and what to ask of life. FYI: The Hours was a working title that Woolf for a time gave to Mrs. Dalloway.
Customer Reviews
Late to the game…
This book is almost twenty-five years old now as I read it for the first time. And, it’s an example of why some books are classics, even when they’re anchored to a particular era in our history. That anchor provides substance and atmosphere, but it’s the human condition, presented faithfully, honestly, and meaningfully that makes classics — and this book — timeless and substantive for any audience. Also, reading The Hours at a point in our current timeline when depression is being examined so much more openly has also been an eye-opening — and, at times, confirming — experience. The thread that ties this novel together is also masterfully crafted and the language is beautiful yet deliberate.
A classic
I read this in a day, then reread it over a week. So much depth and nuisance. Brilliant writing. Must read.
Not My Style - I Guess.
I realize this is Pulitzer material but I was so bored I quit after 44 pages. And that was after forcing myself to keep reading.