Who’s afraid of Virginia Woolf? Certainly not me. I’m immensely fascinated by her, as I am with all intelligent women (my Kryptonite, my weakness). I think I first found her during college which, admittedly, was a little late. And after watching The Hours, I was hooked, line and sinker. I tried to read all her works and devoured every bit of detail about the life of this progressive feminist thinker. In this regard, The Letters of Vita Sackville-West and Virginia Woolf was an indispensable book. The experience was like being given a front row seat into the daily lives of two unconventional women, and the enduring romantic friendship that blossomed between them.

Vita and Virginia met in 1922, and had a fairly established lesbian affair even though both were married at the time. Vita, the aggressive aristocrat, almost worshiped Virginia, the frail, enigmatic writer. In her letters, Vita made no qualms about her feelings. For example, this excerpt which Vita wrote while on a long voyage to Asia:

Milan, Thursday, 21st of January 1926

“I am reduced to a thing that wants Virginia.

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