In the Memoir Club, the postwar Bloomsbury circle devoted to self-writing in the manner of Proust, I presented three of the 125 memoirs, between 1921 and 1936.
From about 1905 I taught evening classes at Morley College as a volunteer, on and off for two years — teaching that later fed the themes of class and education in Mrs Dalloway.
Barred from Cambridge, I built my education myself: unrestricted reading in my father's vast library, then private tutoring in Classical Greek and Latin from 1897 and lectures at the King's College Ladies' Department.
Through Three Guineas (1938) and the Hogarth Press list, I tied women's exclusion from legal and economic power to war, nationalism and colonialism — publishing anti-colonial pamphlets alongside feminist memoirs.
In A Room of One's Own I argued that the women history accused of witchcraft or possession were often suppressed artists — that missing women in literature is a story of lost creativity, not absent talent.
I researched my great-aunt, the photographer Julia Margaret Cameron, published the findings in 1925–1926, and turned an episode of her life into Freshwater, a three-act comedy I directed and acted in on 18 January 1935.
Between 1927 and 1931 I published To the Lighthouse, Orlando and The Waves, plus essays such as "Mr. Bennett and Mrs. Brown" — my most sustained run of experimental literature and art criticism.
In Mrs Dalloway (1925) I wrote Septimus Smith, a soldier back from the First World War with shell shock, to confront the moral dilemma of war inside a novel of one London day — literature as a record of postwar culture.
Across my novels I let an uneventful, commonplace narrative be refracted — sometimes almost dissolved — in my characters' consciousness, fusing lyricism and style into a literature of sound and image.
Asked to lecture on Women and Fiction at Cambridge in 1928, I expanded the two talks into a six-chapter, quasi-fictional essay (1929) that became a key work of feminist literary criticism and a study of literature and culture.
