Virginia Leishman is a marvel. I've read this novel several times, could quote passages from memory (and this is a perfect novel, but Virginia Woolf is not a casual read; she's the sort of writer you read if you're fascinated with the nature of time, with depictions of consciousness, with expanding your sense of the novels capacity to explore the interior of the human heart). Leishman adds emotional nuance to every line she reads, giving it the feel of lively stage performance, as if the book were being read again for the first time. Like Proust's In Search of Lost Time, this is a book to be read first, and then listened to. But each encounter is a delight.
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