Street Haunting’, it imagines a freedom for women on the streets of the city to come and go as they please, on foot.
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‘Eleanor and Milly and Delia could not possibly go for a walk alone – save in the streets round about Abercorn Terrace, and then only between the hours of eight-thirty and sunset.’
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‘Eleanor and Milly and Delia could not possibly go for a walk alone – save in the streets round about Abercorn Terrace, and then only between the hours of eight-thirty and sunset.’
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cious reasoning is an ironic invocation of the mythical feminine as dark and irrational, the castrating darkness of the feminine a place from which travellers may not emerge
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But, Woolf asks, if she had, what would a woman’s epic or a woman’s poetic tragedy in five acts look like?
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But just as important as what she sees is what the walk does to her sense of self.
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once we were the objects of the gaze, as street haunters we become observing entities, de-sexed, un-gendered. We cloak ourselves in anonymity, and become as incomprehensible to the city as it often is to us.
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Nowadays I’m often overcome by London; even think of the dead who have walked in the city … The view of the grey white spires from Hungerford Bridge brings it to me: & yet I can’t say what ‘it’ is.
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London. Defiant – almost gay, clasping her dog as if for warmth
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An old beggar woman, blind, sat against a stone wall in Kingsway holding a brown mongrel in her arms & sang aloud.