Textbook Greek: Thoby Stephen in Jacob's Room.

When Virginia Woolf's narrator first invites readers into Jacob's room, she concludes her survey of its contents by noting that he had "all the usual textbooks" (38). Contemporary readers of Jacob's Room (1922) may have known academic publishers like George Bell & Sons, with offices in Covent Garden, selling books in Cambridge, New York, and Bombay. But Woolf's twenty-first century readers might overlook the final reference in her catalogue. Woolf's sense of a typical assortment of student books may have been based on those that filled some of the shelves in her home, from the Clarendon Press student editions of Greek plays that she translated to the texts that her brother Thoby Stephen inscribed at Clifton College and Cambridge University. These volumes, now in Virginia and Leonard Woolf's library at Washington State University, shaped the academic landscape that Jacob inhabited. Beginning with the genre of the textbook, the books in Woolf's library allow us to see that her depiction of modern life depended upon the materiality of handling, translating, and publishing of classical texts. (1)

When Woolf and other members of her family translated Greek, they used their personal copies as workbooks, underlining words and adding their own translations in the margins (figures 1-3). While she wrote in books as she translated, Woolf did not tend to do so as she read other kinds of texts, and scholars are familiar with the notebooks that provided what Hermione Lee has called Woolf's "system of annotation" (406). In an early sketch on ["writing in the margin"], Woolf expressed her well-known dislike of writing in books, primarily those that others owned (Golden, "Woolf's Marginalia"). (2) Woolf's response to writing in books has led scholars to investigate whether she did so and what her library can tell us about her handling, collecting, and constructing of books. (3) Critics have also addressed the significance of Woolf's own travels in Greece and the plays to which she alludes. (4) Turning to Woolf's Greek texts, this essay argues that academic practices and materials, from her approach to translating to the editions she read, contributed to the development of Jacob's Room. (5)

Print culture studies have led to new considerations of publication history, ranging from Lise Jaillant's Modernism, Middlebrow and the Literary Canon: The Modern Library Series, 1917-1955 (2016) to studies of the Hogarth Press. (6) Turning our attention to the marketing, publishing, and distributing of late nineteenth and early twentieth century classical texts illuminates the significance of academic presses for Woolf and her contemporaries. Even early in her career Woolf was familiar with the publishing industry, perhaps due to her half-brother Gerald Duckworth's firm, and she noted in "Venice," her 1909 review of Pompeo Molmenti's Venice: Its Individual Growth from the Earliest Beginnings to the Fall of the Republic (1906-1908), that "The Greek and Latin classics came from the Aldine Press; scholars from Constantinople lived in Venice and taught the wonderful dead languages; private people began to store books in 'cupboards and on shelves of carved walnut' and the State founded the great library in the magnificent building of Sansovino" (El 245). Beginning in 1494, Woolf recounts, the Aldine Press's efforts led to the teaching, exchanging, and preserving of classical texts.

In The Death of the Book: Modernist Novels and the Time of Reading (2016), John Lurz gives new treatment to Woolf's attention in her fiction to books as such, but does not take into account Woolf's use of her own library or her annotating strategies. After considering Clarissa Dalloway's reading of Cymbeline in a shop window, Lurz argues that the whole of Mrs. Dalloway "views the mental world of linguistic deciphering and imagination as bound up with, indeed dependent on the physical or perceptual relationship Clarissa has with that language's material support" (2). Lurz emphasizes the production, publication, and circulation of texts (10); apart from the "the format of the book," he focuses on "the book facing the reader," without attending to the ways that readers alter books (7). These factors shaped Woolf's encounters with Greek texts, but she also underlined and annotated texts as she translated them, adding layers to their pages in the process of determining their meaning. (7)

Yopie Prins, by contrast, focuses on Woolf's construction of an Agamemnon notebook, pasting published text of the play onto her own bound pages, and annotating the text as she translated. In design, Prins observes that while Woolf "had chosen to transcribe Verrall's text, the layout of her notebook looks more like Trevelyan's translation. Instead of placing Greek on the left page and English on the right, she followed the format of the acting editions of the Cambridge Greek play, with Greek on the right page and English on the left" ("OTOTOTOI" 180). Prins sees this change as leading to a more complicated reading practice as Woolf translated on the opposing blank page and in the margins of the Greek text. It also shows her decisions as she constructed an edition, which, even if Prins imagines it was "private," could have been composed with an audience in mind as Woolf herself had become a publisher (173). (8) When she first worked with Janet Case. Prins notes, Case "was preparing her own translation of Prometheus Bound for publication in 1905: an inexpensive pocket-sized edition... With Greek and English text on facing pages" ("Sexual Politics" 171). The dual language format of Woolf's notebook also resembled the editions "that Woolf loved to read in the Loeb Classical Library.... With ancient Greek text and modern English translation on facing pages" ("OTOTOTOI" 181). Prins's comparison of Woolf's efforts to those of the Cambridge and Loeb series allows us to see her potential edition as an intervention in the form and content of the classics publishing industry. In different ways, Lurz also cites the ways that typographical and stylistic experimentation coincide in Jacob's Room, with its "unconventional page layout in which empty spaces of varying sizes separate the scenes of the narrative, a printing decision that was significantly tied to the inauguration of the [Hogarth] press in 1917" (23).

Jacob's Room is an attempt to render the living of life during the first two decades of the twentieth century. Its narrative leaves much unexplained, yet the novel depicts scenes and sensations from new vantage points. Because of modernist attempts to imagine the life of the mind, Dirk Van Hulle has argued in Modern Manuscripts: The Extended Mind and Creative Undoing from Darwin to Beckett and Beyond (2014) that many examples from literary modernism make the material records of composition and reading, including drafts and marginalia, vital to understanding a writer's "extended mind" (149). He clarifies that because "manuscripts reflect the process of thinking and writing there is a connection between the act of preserving these traces of the production of stories... and methods of evoking the characters' consciousness" (4). We can see the outcome of this process in Jacob's Room's stream-of-consciousness. Woolf scholars have long been interested in her composition practices, but Van Hulle's description of what manuscripts can capture should also inspire us to study the contents of Woolf's and her brother's libraries.

Van Hulle underscores that when readers write in books, "marginalia are not so much a copy of the mind but rather... a part of the mind" (153). Inscribing her books as she translated, Woolf practiced what Emily Dalgarno characterizes as "an approach that reveals... [Woolf's] dependence on a now outdated model that envisions the substitution of one word for another" (3). Woolf's translations in her Greek texts resemble Edward Pargiter's process of translating Antigone at Oxford University in The Years (1937). Edward

read; and made a note; then he read again.... He caught phrase after
phrase exactly, firmly, more exactly, he noted, making a brief note in
the margin, than the night before. Little negligible words now revealed
shades of meaning, which altered the meaning. He made another note;
that was the meaning. His own dexterity in catching the phrase plumb in
the middle gave him a thrill of excitement. There it was, clean and
entire. But he must be precise; exact; even his little scribbled notes
must be clear as print. (47) (8)

Woolf's example of annotating in The Years demonstrates what Van Hulle sees as a more basic interaction between writers' minds and their physical surroundings. Compared with The Years, Jacob's Room has a sparser narrative economy. The Years fills in gaps where Woolf wished that she "could have screwed Jacob up tighter" (D2 210). In Jacob's Room, the narrator's gaze rests on items for an instant before turning its attention elsewhere.

Considering Woolf's handling of her library sheds light on the material contexts that informed her aesthetic choices and development of character in her fiction. In "A Sketch of the Past," Woolf distinguished Thoby as "not, as I am, a breaker off of single words, or sentences, not a note taker. He was more casual, rough and ready and comprehensive" (MOB 138). Gesturing here to her reading notebooks, Woolf's phrasing also evokes her practice of isolating words as she translated Greek. Focusing on Woolf's "major texts from the mid-1920s," after the publication of Jacob's Room in 1922, Anne Fernald has argued that "During these years, Woolf emphasized our distance from Greece: how little we know of the ancient Greek language and culture and the mystery of our continued fascination and attraction with it nonetheless. Her metaphor for this imperfect knowledge was the distinctly modernist one of the fragment" (18). Woolf did notjust, as Fernald finds, use "images of cutting and slicing to describe Greek" (29-30), "breaking off' and altering texts was part of her engagement with language. (10)

While Woolf's sense of Greek and Greece was inherently incomplete, her library presents a landscape to which we can return. But even as a wealth of materials can provide depth and continuity, archival materials remain glimpses of what we can never access in its entirety. In The Boundaries of the Literary Archive: Reclamation and Representation, Lisa Stead introduces Paul Voss and Marta Werner's understanding of "the archive" as "both a physical site--an institutional space enclosed by protective walls--and an imaginative site--a conceptual space whose boundaries are forever changing" (2). Stead points out that "Archives are incomplete sites of knowledge, necessarily fragmentary and changeable" (2). In the reading room at Washington State, one can consider Woolf's and Thoby's libraries together, gaining a sense of the ways both siblings navigated language differently, despite their similar tools and techniques.

Woolf would have honed her translating practices as she studied with Case, whom, critics have noted, Woolf described as "no sentimentalist: she had her grammar at her fingertips--she used to pull me up ruthlessly in the middle of some beautiful passage with 'Mark the ar'" (PA 182). (11) "Mark" evokes the act of making and the result of a physical impression, as in the title of Woolf's later story, "The Mark on the Wall" (1917), or those Woolf added to pages as she translated. (12) It is likely that she was referring to what Prins calls "the Victorian denigration of 'Lady's Greek, without the accents'" ("OTOTOTOI" 170). In an obituary for her tutor, Woolf elaborated that " 'If the pupil were destined to remain an amateur, Janet Case accepted the fact' and then 'the grammar was shut and the play opened. Somehow the masterpieces of Greek drama were stormed, without grammar, without accents, but somehow, under her compulsion, so sane and yet so stimulating, out they shone, if inaccessible still supremely desirable'" (qtd. in "OTOTOTOI" 170). Following Case's lead separated Woolf from the readers who inspired Case to put the grammar aside. (13)

Even as she adopted the practice, Woolf's reference to Edward's "little scribbled notes" in The Years may also suggest that her dislike of writing in books extended to doing so to translate. (14) Emily James has argued that Woolf's use of the word "scribbling" does not tend to be positive, and is reminiscent of Nathaniel Hawthorne's "scribbling women" (281). James finds that "Scribbling, for Woolf, is an early stage in the writing process, before revising, editing, or publishing. A publisher herself, Woolf does not glorify this stage of writing; she refers dismissively to the 'scribbling' of female writers" (280). James stresses that "scribbling implies haste and sloppiness; such undisciplined script lacks the clarity and reproducibility of type. Accordingly, scribbled texts reside in the margins of word production; untyped and unpublished, they include jotted notes, marginalia, and first drafts" (280). Edward's youth, as well as Woolf's and Thoby's early translations of Greek, resonate with James's proposal that "If scribbling and scrawling are early stages of writing, then they are also suggestive of childhood or childishness" (281). The contrast that Woolf draws between her approach and her brother's "rougher" style in "A Sketch of the Past," for instance, is visible at times in their Greek texts. But annotators are also subject to the difficulty of writing clearly in the spaces of pages filled with lines of text. Woolf's and Thoby's translations (Figures 1-3) respond to this spatial challenge, preserving what may be early thoughts in a small hand.

Thoby also often added sketches to the inside covers of his books, like those of birds in his copy of Pindar (Figure 4), and shared his father's inclination to draw in the margins of his reading (see Gillespie). In "A Sketch of the Past," Woolf recalled Thoby as

not clever; but gifted. And his gifts were natural to him, naturally it
came to him to look distinguished; to be silent, to draw. He would take
a sheet of paper, hold it at an odd angle and begin easily, naturally
drawing a bird, not where I expected, but at some queer place, so that
I could not guess how the bird would become a bird. He was not
precocious; but won prizes now and then, yet failed to win a
scholarship at Eton. His Latin and Greek were very rough, I think the
masters said. But his essays showed great intelligence. Yet it was
through him I first heard about the Greeks. (125)

In the novel, we see Clara Durrant's admiration of the fact that Jacob "gives himself no airs" (JR 72). And we learn that "Jacob knew no more Greek than served him to stumble through a play" (78). Both Jacob and Thoby combine aesthetics and impulse. In his volume of John Donne's poetry, Jacob "had marked the things he liked... and they were savage enough" (170). But in his sketch of a bird, Thoby questioned how one might go about depicting life, which materializes in Woolf's approach to Jacob's Room.

In Jacob's Room, texts capture remnants of readers' inclinations. Jacob becomes frustrated in the Scilly Isles with "those little thin paper editions [of Shakespeare] whose pages get ruffled, or stuck together with sea-water" (46). And we get a sense of his taste when "Sometimes Jacob, choosing a very fine pen, made a correction in the margin" (21). While Woolf had critiqued kinds of annotators, in Jacob's Room she granted them greater discrimination. Jacob possesses more restraint than his predecessor in "[writing in the margin]" whose corrections in his books suggested that he was "conscientious & possibly useful, but, we conceive, of a precise & pedantic spirit" ("Woolf's Marginalia" 117). The narrator of Jacob's Room later draws our attention to "Mrs. Durrant, [who] sleepless as usual, scored a mark by the side of certain lines in the Inferno" (JR 78). In her late night reading of Dante, Mrs. Durrant presents a refined version of Woolf's reader in "[writing in the margin]" who drew lines beside stanzas of "minor poets" "to give expression, to some transient emotion" ("Woolf's Marginalia" 117). In doing so, Mrs. Durrant leaves a physical imprint on her reading of the classics.

If Jacob's Room is an elegy for Thoby Stephen, then his library would have provided vestiges of his intellectual life. And when Woolf wanted to understand the education that she was not able to receive, Thoby's books and other books in her home would have provided an introduction. (15) Thoby's focus on the classics, however, might have lacked elements that Woolf desired to study and that she continues to envision for the future of education in A Room of One's Own (1929). It was when crafting Jacob's Room that she began to articulate some of these sentiments, shifting from the "extended mind" to the "enormous mind" (JR 113) of the canon that Julia questions in the British Museum. (16)

Jacob's Room connects the physicality of books with the experience of reading, as "Each has his past shut in him like the leaves of a book known to him by heart" (65). Understanding some of the ways that Woolf's own reading existed in conversation with the strategies of those with whom she lived allows us to broaden our sense of the materials shaping her life narratives.

Textbooks

When Woolf introduces the books in Jacob's library, they appear at first to stand in the place of a more traditional introduction to facets of his character. In reality, they are eclectic and somewhat inexplicable, not unlike a reader or writer's own library. (17) Woolf even interrupts her catalogue with an observation to this effect, suggesting that Jacob should be of interest to readers because his tastes are of his own design. (18) His shelves contained

books enough; very few French books; but then any one who's worth
anything reads just what he likes, as the mood takes him, with
extravagant enthusiasm. Lives of the Duke of Wellington, for example;
Spinoza; the works of Dickens; the Faery Queen; a Greek dictionary with
the petals of poppies pressed to silk between the pages; all the
Elizabethans.... The works of Jane Austen too, in deference, perhaps,
to someone else's standard. Carlyle was a prize. There were books upon
the Italian painters of the Renaissance, a Manual of the Diseases of
the Horse, and all the usual textbooks. (37-38)

Woolf's image of a reader following his or her own inclinations, however, reminds us of Thoby's "more casual, rough and ready and comprehensive" (MOB 138) style. In "A Sketch of the Past," she imagines he might have become "Justice Stephen... with several books to his credit; one or two on law; some essays exposing humbugs; perhaps a book on birds, with drawings by himself" (140). Thoby's library, then, would reflect the passions of his writing life. After encountering James Strachey's books in 1919, Woolf remarked that "He has all the right books, neatly ranged, but not interesting in the least--not, I mean, all lusty & queer like a writers [sic] books" (D1 305). While Woolf might be imagining her own interests as a writer here, her description makes Jacob's tastes seem bland.

In constructing Jacob's library, several of the books that appear to be more revealing of his character and interests were not among those in Thoby's library, but were owned by Woolf's Cambridge-educated father and brother. Lurz argues that Jacob represents "a manifestation of a general, established type, what we might call the ' Cambridge gentleman'" (111). By investigating the books to which Woolf had access, we can see some of the variability that this "type" may have encompassed and the extent to which she manufactured her depiction of it. Like Jacob, Thoby received a copy of Carlyle's French Revolution as a prize when he was a student at Clifton College, but it was Leonard who possessed a copy of Spinoza. Similarly, Thoby's Spenser does not remain in the Woolfs' library, but Leonard and Leslie Stephen's do. One of the more telling moments earlier in the novel, when Jacob selected "the works of Byron in one volume" (19), also may have grown out of Woolf's familiarity with her father and Leonard's annotated copies, as a copy does not remain in Thoby's library.

The rest of the volumes on Jacob's shelves contribute to its eclectic selection. Austen and the Italian painters might have been predictable choices for Jacob, as Woolf also gestures toward his admirers and his appreciation for aesthetics. Lurz sees the inclusion of Austen as "meant to explain what might seem an anomalous choice for a young man otherwise interested in titles of a more 'masculine' bent, though it also indicates that the narrator approaches Jacob's books with some preconceived notions, a set of expectations she is looking to the books to fulfill" (111). We can see vestiges of the equestrian passions that a student like Jacob might possess in his Manual of the Diseases of the Horse. In Thoby's library, a similar book is his copy of British Birds (1892). This hardcover volume, however, provided a form of diary that Thoby carried, adding details from his encounters with birds, including their dates and locations. Two entries in Thoby's small, careful hand refer to birds he spotted in London and Cambridge (Figure 5).

A "Greek dictionary" is a predictable book for a classics student like Jacob to have, but, as we have seen in her memory of Case, similar resources take a prominent position in Woolf's memories of her own education. In "A Sketch of the Past," Woolf remembers how her "mother's finger with the opal ring I loved pointed its way across French and Latin Grammars" (177). (19) On the table in Woolf's room at Hyde Park Gate "stood my open Greek lexicon; some Greek play or other" (122). While the Greek lexicon Woolf read in her youth does not remain in her library at Washington State, Thoby and Leonard Woolf both owned volumes edited by Henry George Liddell and Robert Scott. Woolf refers to their well-known lexicon from Oxford University Press as she reminisces: "Left alone in the great house... I mounted to my room; spread my Liddell and Scott upon the table, and settled down to read Plato, or to make out some scene in Euripides or Sophocles for Clara Pater, or Janet Case" (148). Woolf is addressing an audience who would have recognized the shorthand, and while it was from Thoby that Woolf "first heard about the Greeks" (125), she was also nodding to the academic world to which Pater and Case had introduced her.

When she envisioned Jacob's room, with its tools for classical study and shades of his fate in the war, Woolf may have remembered Case's room, which contained "the photographs of young soldiers, & the silhouettes, & Janet's books, which never seem to be read, & the greek [sic] dictionary with the piece of paper sticking out of it" (D1 213). Filling Jacob's Greek dictionary with poppies, Woolf updates a third type of reader from "writing in the margins," for whom, after reading, "a whole botanical collection is returned to the library, pressed between the leaves" ("Woolf's Marginalia" 117). Woolf's choice of poppies, Vara Neverow has argued, foreshadows Jacob's death (ixxxv). The pages of Thoby's Greek-English Lexicon are tattered (Figure 6), but it is Woolf's copy of Baedeker's Northern France (1899) that contains a dry leaf, now in an envelope that accompanies the volume, that Woolf may have encountered as she plotted Jacob's travels in Paris (Figure 7). Like the Baedeker guides that Woolf and Jacob consult, the Greek plays that Woolf translated were part of a series of educational texts.

In listing "the usual textbooks," Woolf may have been referring to introductory manuals or guides, like those listed in the catalogue descriptions for the introductory courses in which Woolf enrolled at King's College London. (20) For Jacob and his contemporaries, the "text-book" may have referred to an instruction book for any discipline. (21) The Oxford English Dictionary defines "text-book" as "A book used as the standard work for the study of a particular subject; now usually one written specifically for this purpose; a manual of instruction in any science or branch of study, esp. a work recognized as an authority" (s.v. 2). Its earliest reference dates from Mirror in 1779: "The letters of the immortal Earl of Chesterfield, which I intend to use as my text-book on this occasion." (22) This definition of the text-book as guide appears consistent with our sense of the term in the twenty-first century.

Woolf and Thoby shared some of the same academic landscape and texts. Working with tutors, however, Woolf lacked the camaraderie that she mythologized in Jacob's Room and that she encountered when meeting Thoby's college friends. As she imagined in Jacob's Room, "If any light burns above Cambridge, it must be from three such rooms; Greek burns here; science there; philosophy on the ground floor. Poor old Huxtable can't walk straight;--Sopwifh, too, has praised the sky any night these twenty years; and Cowan still chuckles at the same stories. It is not simple, or pure, or wholly splendid, the lamp of learning" (38). Late into the night there would be "Talking, talking, talking--as if everything could be talked--the soul itself slipped through the lips in thin silver disks which dissolve in young men's minds like silver, like moonlight" (39). The image is material and communal, but restricted in gender.

Woolf's reference to "the usual text-books" could mean introductory texts for a range of subjects. (23) It is unclear what this would have meant for Thoby, as he had studied the classics at Clifton College before arriving at Cambridge, and would not necessarily have taken introductory courses there. Lurz argues that in this reference Woolf "points explicitly to a predetermined standard by which she is judging him. She limits him, that is, to a manifestation of... the 'Cambridge gentleman'" (111). The contents of a textbook, like the disks of ideas that dissolve, are likely to have been those that a student will surpass, as neither Woolf nor Thoby saved any books with "textbook" or "text-book" in the title that they may have acquired.

The Latin and Greek courses in which Woolf enrolled at King's College, London, often separated "text-books" from other central readings in the catalogue which Woolf may have acquired for the course or already owned. Woolf registered for Elementary Greek from 1897 to 1898 (Jones and Snaith 15) and the "Textbooks" included Greek for Beginners by Joseph Bickersteth Mayor and Stories in Attic Greek by Morice, neither of which Woolf kept, if she acquired them (Jones and Snaith 19). The latter, if Woolf read it, resembles an anthology with some introductory materials. In October of 1897 (L1 10), Woolf enrolled in Pater's "Intermediate Reading" Greek, which included Sophocles'sAntigone (Jones and Snaith 24). Woolf inscribed her heavily annotated "Clarendon Press Series: Sophocles: For The Use of Schools" edition of Sophocles, "AVS 1898." (24) This copy contains additions in ink and pencil, suggesting that she added notes on different occasions, perhaps even returning to it over time (figure 2). At the back of the volume, the publishers included a list of the "Clarendon Press Series Latin Educational Works." (25) This list and others like it would have presented a canon of sorts; a place to access and order the range of editions edited by scholars and commissioned by Oxford University Press. (26)

Oxford's publication of the student editions followed the growth of British schools during the second half of the nineteenth century. As Christopher Stray observes, "A search of textbooks... before 1865 gathers a very thin crop" ("Educational Publishing" 3). The number of "public," "proprietary," and "middle-class schools" increased during the 1860s, and Oxford University Press directed its efforts toward "a school and university market for instructional books" ("Educational Publishing" 1). As we have seen, Woolf and Thoby read books from "the Clarendon Press Series (CPS), an imprint rather than a series proper [of Oxford University Press] whose first title appeared in 1865" ("Educational Publishing" 1-2). Woolf's wide-ranging books reflect the fact that "The CPS was intended to include 'educational' rather than 'academic' books, but it ranged from elementary to higher education" ("Educational Publishing" 16).

For Woolf, classical texts provided access to the world of scholarship that influenced university and secondary education. Greek and Latin were among her primary sources of formal education and her access to some of the same resources through her tutors and courses at King's College allowed her to participate in larger conversations. Drawing on her own reading in her depiction of Jacob's study and travels, Woolf is also making a larger argument that understanding the world for many at the time was filtered through the study of the classics, and this ultimately also included the First World War. (27)

As later portions of Woolf's novel turn to Jacob's travels, guide books take the place of textbooks. They provide quick reference points, underscoring their role as texts with which travelers were familiar. And like Liddell and Scott's Greek-English Lexicon, Baedeker's guides were identifiable in part because they sold well (Geppert 236). Liddell and Scott's Greek-English Lexicon was a "best seller" in the late nineteenth century, one of two Oxford University Press books to turn a profit, the other being the Bible ("Educational Publishing" 6 and Sutcliffe 15). (28) Liddell and Scott's Lexicon and Baedeker's guides are emblematic of the changing impact of academic and popular publishing on readers' understanding of Greek and Greece, and more broadly, translation and travel.

Guide Books

As she drafted Jacob's travels, Woolf probably consulted her own Baedekers or other guide books. The concept of the "guide" or "guide-book" is not unlike that of a textbook, and the earliest instance of the use of "guide-book" in the OED dates from 1830, coming after their first reference to "text-book." Mark Larabee has noted the ways that Baedeker's guides provide a less substantial guide than living life in novels like E. M. Forster's A Room with a View (1908). Woolf returns to these guides in her diaries, acknowledging their reputation and limitations. In 1918, she remarked that there were "pictures in French papers of English tourists, only wanting spectacles & Ba[e]dekers to finish them" (D1 195-196). (29) Larabee notes the recognizable "red covers" of the Baedeker in Forster's novel (64), and this element presents a visual parallel to the Oxford editions of Greek texts that Woolf annotated, later referred to as "Oxford Reds" (Henderson 1). (30)

Jacob visits France and Greece; the latter, as it had for Woolf, provides a modern context for his studies. Woolf explored these connections in an early segment of her journal, "Greece, 1906," and story, "[A Dialogue Upon Mount Pentelicus]," in which, Jeanne Dubino has argued, Woolf brought new dimensions to what she had encountered in language:

Though she transforms the details of the real journey that "[A
Dialogue]" is based on, she used these details to underscore what
Dimitris Tziovas calls topos, or topicality, in opposition to the
logos, or the way Westerners have typically represented Greece, as a
country of the mind. Tziovas proposes a heterotopia, or a topology that
privileges neither the topos nor the logos, but rather "sustain[s] the
tensions between the two" (189). In Woolf's writing, logos, try as it
might, cannot escape topos. (22-3)

Woolf's books themselves present another kind of landscape, casting light on, but differing from, her visit to Greece. From the translations in her Greek texts to the condition of her Baedekers, each book would have altered Woolf's impression of its contents as she returned to it.

Virginia and Leonard Woolf's library includes numerous copies of Baedeker's guides and items related to their travels or others' use of the volumes. The maps in these guide books are folded and refolded, suggesting their handling. Acquired after Thoby's death, this edition could have provided a reference when Woolf was composing Jacob's Room. Tickets and hand drawn maps that once rested within their copy of Baedeker's Greece (1909) are now preserved in an envelope and a folder. The tickets may not have been from the Woolfs' travels, but the Athens tickets are from sites that the Woolfs would have been inclined to visit. Two sets of tickets with stamped images of a female relic and birds are labeled "Antiquities of Greece," and were probably from archaeological ruins, such as the Acropolis, Parthenon, and Temple of Dionysus (figure 8). In addition to the tickets, the Woolfs' Baedeker included a schedule; figure 8 depicts photographs of both the recto, with an image that looks as if it were printed after 1906, and the verso, with a schedule that lists sites in Athens, such as the National Archaeological Museum and the Acropolis, which Woolf and Jacob visited (PA 327-8, JR 158).

When she visited Greece in 1906, Woolf contemplated the relationship between the ruins and the creative process. She began "[A Dialogue Upon Mount Pentelicus]" with an aside, "Mount Pentelicus[,] as we who read Baedeker know yet bears on her side the noble scar that she suffered at the hands of certain Greek stone masons" (63, bracket in original). She soon returns to the classics, imagining the view as "Plato looked up from his page on sunny mornings" (63). The physicality of texts, like those she translated, is not far from her imagination: "You might have heard the voice of Theocritus in the plaint that it made on those stones, and certain of the English did hear it, albeit the text was dusty on their shelves at home" (64). The Woolfs also visited Greece in 1932 with Roger Fry and his sister Marjorie (Glendinning 269), (31) and their tickets may date from this trip, when they visited the Acropolis, the Parthenon, and, Woolf reflects, the "theatre [of Dionysos], with its curved marble seats... Here L. sat & we said that Sophocles Euripides & Aristophanes must have sat here & seen--Anyhow the hills were before them, as before us" (D4 91, 98). In the process, Woolf imagines the impact of this view on the development of the texts that she had studied.

Jacob's response to the ruins is not one for which a guide book could have prepared him. We see Jacob "up very early, looking at the statues with his Baedeker" (JR 153). Consulting his guide book, "he was accurate and diligent; but profoundly morose. Moreover he was pestered by guides" (157). (32) It is atop the Acropolis with a different book, however, that "Jacob read on again. And laying the book on the ground he began, as if inspired by what he had read, to write a note upon the importance of history--upon democracy--one of those scribbles upon which the work of a lifetime may be based; or again, it falls out of a book twenty years later, and one can't remember a word of it. It is a little painful. It had better be burnt" (158). As Jacob's "scribbles" take the shape that James argued marginalia also demonstrate, his epiphany may capture an early moment in which his aspirations shift toward a future in the law. Jacob's insecurity also recalls Leslie Stephen's fears. But preservation is also subject to chance. One's books will contain remnants of thoughts and memories, like the poppies in Jacob's Lexicon or the tickets in the Woolfs' Baedeker.

Returning to Textbooks

When she returns from Greece in 1932, Woolf revisits translation as she depicts Edward annotating Antigone at Oxford in The Pargiters (D4 129). (33) Compared with her overview of Jacob's shelves, Edward's "one bookcase... was... arranged with rows of old books... which he had bought almost as much as for the subdued ripple of brown & gold that their backs made as for their contents. His [work] <text> books, his note books, his... shabby dictionaries [& textbooks] were concealed beneath a curtain on the lower shelves" (Pargiters 59). He is motivated by aesthetics, concealing the books that were subject to greater use, not unlike Thoby's Lexicon. As Woolf revises this scene, she gives reference books greater prominence than she had in Jacob's Room.

By the time Woolf completes the "1880" section of The Years, Edward's texts are no longer concealed, but sitting on his table as he prepares to work. Edward "looked at the textbooks, at the dictionaries lying before him. He always had some doubts before he began" (46). Edward's translation anticipates her own account of translating with "Liddell and Scott" on her desk in "A Sketch of the Past." Woolf acknowledged in "On Not Knowing Greek," "Sophocles['s] reputation for restraint and mastery has filtered down to us from the scholars" (27). Some of these scholars informed the editions that Woolf read, and in her inclusion of textbooks in The Years she gestures toward the fact that Edward is learning to enter this conversation.

From Jacob's Room to The Years, we can see the extent to which Woolf's engagement with Greek was intertwined with the academy and the publishing industry, from the books she read to her annotating of them. In "On Not Knowing Greek," Woolf proposed that in reading Greek "A fragment of their speech broken off would, we feel, colour oceans" (27). As we observed in "A Sketch of the Past," Woolf described herself as "a breaker off of single words, or sentences." The similarity in these statements takes on new meaning when we consider that Woolf's reading of Greek involved physically marking texts. In her library, we can observe the results of these practices, adding to our understanding of Woolf's attention to language and its role in Jacob's Room.

I am grateful to Emily James, Margaret Konkol, and Randi Saloman for their feedback on versions of this article. I would also like to thank Trevor J. Bond and my student Savina Ruppaner for their assistance, and Manuscripts and Special Collections (MASC) at the Pullman Library, Washington State University, and the Society of Authors as the Representative of the Literary Estate of Virginia Woolf for permissions.

Works Cited or Consulted

Aeschylus, Aischylou Agamemnon = Aeschyli Agamemnon ad fidem manuscriptorum emendavit notas et glossarium adjecti Carolus Jacobus Blomfield. 4thed. B. Fellowes, 1832. MASC.

Baedeker, Karl. Northern France, from Belgium and the English Channel to the Loire, Excluding Paris and its Environs: Handbook for Travellers. 3d ed. K. Baedeker, 1899. MASC.

--. Greece: Handbook for Travellers. 4th rev. ed. K. Baedeker, 1909. MASC.

Brown, Bill. "The Secret Life of Things (Virginia Woolf and the Matter of Modernism)." Modernism/modernity, vol. 6, no. 2, 1999, pp. 1-28.

Bulson, Eric. Novels, Maps, Modernity: The Spatial Imagination, 1850-2000. Routledge, 2010.

Byron, George Gordon, Baron. The Life, Letters, and Journals of Lord Byron, edited by Thomas Moore. J. Murray, 1866. MASC.

--. The Works of Lord Byron. J. Murray, 1842. MASC.

--. The Works off Lord Byron. J. Murray, 1828-31. 6 vols. Vol. 4 only. MASC.

Carlyle, Thomas. The French Revolution: A History. Chapman and Hall, 1898. 3 vols. MASC.

Catullus, Gaius Valerius. Catulli Veronensis Liber, edited by Arthur Palmer. Macmillan, 1896. MASC.

Cockerell, Douglas. Bookbinding and the Care of Books: A Textbook for Bookbinders and Librarians. The Artistic Crafts Series of Technical Handbooks, no. 1. J. Hogg, 1901. MASC.

Cuddy-Keane, Melba. Virginia Woolf, the Intellectual, and the Public Sphere. Cambridge UP, 2003.

Curthoys, Mark. "The Press and the University." The History of Oxford University Press: Volume II: 1780-1896, edited by Simon Eliot. Oxford UP, 2013, pp. 1-78, Oxford Scholarship Online, August 2014, DOI: 10.1093/acprof:oso/9780199543151.001.0001

Dalgarno, Emily. Virginia Woolf and the Migrations of Language. Cambridge UP, 2011.

Daugherty, Beth Rigel. "A Library of Her Own: Virginia Stephen's Books." Modern Language Association Convention, Chicago, IL. January 10, 2014. Conference Presentation.

Dubino, Jeanne. "From 'Greece 1906' to '[A Dialogue upon Mount Pentelicus]': From Diary Entry to Traveler's Tale." Virginia Woolf Miscellany, vol. 79, Spring 2011, pp. 21-23.

Fernald, Anne E. Virginia Woolf: Feminism and the Reader. Palgrave Macmillan, 2006.

Fowler, Rowena. "Moments and Metamorphoses: Virginia Woolf's Greece." Comparative Literature, vol. 51, no.3,1999, pp. 217-242.

Friedman, Ariela. "Did it Flow?: Bridging Aesthetics and History in Joyce's Ulysses." Modernism/modernity, vol.13, no.1, 2006, pp. 853-868.

Georgievics, Georg von. A Text-Book of Dye Chemistry (The Chemistry of Dye-Stuffs), translated by Eug. Grandmougin, and rev. from the 4th German ed. (with additions) by Frederick A. Mason. Scott, Greenwood, 1920.

Geppert, Alexander C. T. Fleeting Cities: Imperial Expositions in Fin-de-Siecle Europe. Palgrave Macmillan, 2010.

Gillespie, Diane F. "Introduction." The Library of Leonard and Virginia Woolf:A Short-Title Catalog, edited by Julia King and Laila Miletic-Vejzovic. Washington State UP, 2003.

Glendinning, Victoria. Leonard Woolf: A Biography. Counterpoint, 2006.

Golden, Amanda. "'A Brief Note in the Margin:' Virginia Woolf and Annotating." Contradictory Woolf: Selected Papers from the Twenty-First Annual Conference on Virginia Woolf, edited by Derek Ryan and Stella Bolaki. Clemson U Digital P, 2012, pp. 209-214.

--. "Virginia Woolf's Marginalia Manuscript." Woolf Studies Annual vol. 18, 2012, pp.109-117

Goldman, Jane. "Virginia Woolf: Prophet of 'Pure Loss.'" Review of Hellenism and Loss in the Work of Virginia Woolf by Theodore Koulouris. Modernism/modernity vol. 22, no.2, 2015, pp. 389-395.

Graham, John. The Compositor's Text-Book, or, Instructions in the Elements of the Art of Printing. John Joseph Griffin & Co., 1848.

"Guide-book," n. Oxford English Dictionary, www.oed.com, Accessed 24 February 2016.

Hammill, Faye and Mark Hussey, Modernism's Print Cultures. Bloomsbury Academic, 2016.

Henderson, John. "Oxford Reds": Classic Commentaries on Latin Classics. Gerald Duckworth & Co. Ltd., 2006.

Irby, Leonard Howard Lloyd. British Birds: Key List. 2d ed. Porter, 1892. MASC.

Jackson, H. J. Marginalia: Readers Writing in Books. Yale UP, 2001.

Jaillant, Lise. Modernism, Middlebrow and the Literary Canon: The Modern Library Series, 1917-1955. 2014. Routledge, 2016.

James, Emily. "Virginia Woolf and the Child Poet." Modernist Cultures vol. 7, no. 2, 2012, pp. 279-305.

Jamieson, Andrew. A Text-Book of Applied Mechanics and Mechanical Engineering C. Griffith&Co., Ltd., 1918-.

Jones, Christine Kenyon and Anna Snaith. "'Tilting at Universities': Woolf at King's College London." Woolf Studies Annual 16, 2010, pp. 1-44.

King, Julia and Laila Miletic-Vejzovic, editors. The Library of Leonard and Virginia Woolf: A Short-Title Catalog. Washington State UP, 2003.

Lamos, Colleen. "Virginia Woolf's Greek Lessons." Sapphic Modernities: Sexuality, Women and National Culture, edited by Laura Doan and Jane Garrity.: Palgrave, 2006, pp. 149-164.

Larabee, Mark D. Front Lines of Modernism: Remapping The Great War. Palgrave, 2011.

Lee, Hermione. Virginia Woolf. Random House, 1996.

Liddell, Henry George. An Intermediate Greek-English Lexicon Founded upon the Seventh Edition of Liddell and Scott's Greek-English Lexicon. Clarendon Press, 1889. MASC.

--. and Robert Scott, comp. A Greek-English Lexicon. 6th ed., rev. Clarendon Press, 1869. MASC.

Lurz, John. The Death of the Book: Modernist Novels and the Time of Reading. Fordham UP, 2016.

Marcus, Jane. Virginia Woolf and the Languages of Patriarchy. Indiana UP, 1987. Martin, Linda. "Elegy and the Unknowable Mind in Jacob'sRoom" Studies in the Novel 47.2 (Summer 2015): 176-192.

Mills, Jean. Virginia Woolf, Jane Ellen Harrison, and the Spirit of Modern Classicism. Ohio State UP, 2014.

Moffat, Wendy. A Great Unrecorded History: A New Life of E. M. Forster. Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 2010.

Morice, F. D. Stories in Attic Greek: Forming a Greek Reading Book. Rivingtons, 1883, https://archive.org/details/storiesinatticg00unkngoog. Accessed 26 Nov. 2016.

Neverow, Vara. "Introduction." Virginia Woolf, Jacob's Room. Harcourt, 2008, pp. lxxxvii-xciv.

The Periodical, vol. IV. December 1897. Oxford University Press Archive, Oxford, UK.

Pollock, Frederick. Spinoza, His Life and Philosophy. 2d ed. Duckworth, 1899. MASC.

Prins, Yopie. "OTOTOTOI: Virginia Woolf and the 'Naked Cry' of Cassandra." Agamemnon in Performance 458 BC to AD 2004, edited by Fiona Macintosh, et al. Oxford UP, 2005. pp. 163-185.

--. "The Sexual Politics of Translating Prometheus Bound." Cultural Critique vol. 74, 2010): pp. 164-180.

Quigley, Megan. Modernist Fiction and Vagueness: Philosophy, Form, and Language. Cambridge UP, 2015.

Reiman, Donald H. The Study of Modern Manuscripts: Public, Confidential, and Private. Johns Hopkins UP, 1993.

Saloman, Randi. Virginia Woolf's Essayism. Edinburgh UP, 2012.

Southworth, Helen, editor. Leonard and Virginia Woolf, The Hogarth Press and Networks of Modernism. Edinburgh UP, 2010.

Sparks, Elisa Kay. "Leonard and Virginia's London Library: Mapping London's Tides, Streams and Statues." Virginia Woolf's Bloomsbury: Volume 1 Aesthetic Theory and Literary Practice, edited by Gina Potts and Lisa Shahriari. Palgrave Macmillan, 2010, pp. 64-74.

Spenser, Edmund. Works of Edmund Spenser, edited by J. Payne Collier. Bell and Daldy, 1862. 5 vols. MASC.

--. The Works of Edmund Spenser, edited by R. Morris. Macmillan, 1899. MASC.

Spinoza, Benedictus de. The Chief Works of Benedict de Spinoza, translated by R. H. M. Elwes. Rev. ed. Bohn's Philosophical Library. G. Bell, 1903. 2 vols. Vol. 2 only. MASC.

Stead, Lisa. Introduction. The Boundaries of the Literary Archive: Reclamation and Representation, edited by Carrie Smith and Lisa Stead. Ashgate, 2013, pp. 1-14.

Stray, Christopher. "Classics." The History of Oxford University Press: Volume III: 1896 to 1970, edited by Wm. Roger Louis. Oxford University Press, 2013, pp. 1-28. Oxford Scholarship Online, August 2014, DOI: 10.1093/acprof:oso/9780199568406.001.0001

--. "Educational Publishing." The History of Oxford University Press Volume II: 1780 to 1896, edited by Simon Eliot. Oxford University Press, 2013, pp. 1-66. Oxford Scholarship Online, August 2014,DOI:10.1093/acprof:oso/9780199543151.003.0012

Sutcliffe, Peter. The Oxford University Press: An Informal History. Oxford UP, 1978. "text-book, n.," s.v.1 and 2, Oxford English Dictionary, www.oed.com, Accessed 24 Feb. 2016.

Van Hulle, Dirk. Modern Manuscripts: The Extended Mind and Creative Undoing from Darwin to Beckett and Beyond. Bloomsbury, 2014.

Woolf, Virginia. "[A Dialogue Upon Mount Pentelicus]." Complete Shorter Fiction, edited by Susan Dick. Harcourt Brace, 1989, pp. 63-68.

--. Agamemnon Reading Notebook. Berg Collection. New York Public Library, New York, NY.

--. The Diary of Virginia Woolf: Volume One 1915-1919, edited by Anne Olivier Bell. Harcourt Brace, 1977.

--. The Diary of Virginia Woolf: Volume Two: 1920-1924, edited by Anne Olivier Bell, assisted by Andrew McNeillie. Harcourt Brace, 1978.

--. Jacob's Room. 1922. Edited by Vara Neverow. Harcourt, 2008.

--. The Letters of Virginia Woolf: Volume One 1888-1912, edited by Nigel Nicolson and Joanne Trautmann. Harcourt Brace, 1975.

--. "On Not Knowing Greek." The Common Reader: First Series Annotated Edition, edited by Andrew McNeillie. Harcourt Brace, 1984.

--. Orlando: A Biography. 1928. Harcourt Brace, 1956.

--. The Pargiters: The Novel-Essay Portion of The Years, edited by Mitchell A. Leaska. Harcourt Brace, 1977.

--. A Passionate Apprentice: The Early Journals 1897-1909, edited by Mitchell A. Leaska. Harcourt Brace, 1999.

--. "Professions for Women." The Death of the Moth. 1942. Harcourt Brace, 1970, pp. 235-242.

--. "A Sketch of the Past." Moments of Being, edited by Jeanne Schulkind. Harcourt Brace, 1985, pp. 64-159.

--. "Venice." Essays: Volume One: 1904-1912, edited by Andrew McNeillie. Harcourt Brace, 1986, pp. 243-348.

--. The Years. 1937. Edited by Eleanor McNees. Harcourt Brace, 2008.

(1) Shifting to the academic publishing industry draws new attention to the marketing and distribution of Greek texts, even as Fernald points out that in Woolf's time that "knowledge of Greek [was] cultural capital" (17) and "Greek in particular was seen as a suitably impractical genteel pursuit" (20). Regarding Woolf and material culture, see also Brown.

(2) The text of Woolf's "[writing in the margin]" sketch was published in Golden, "Virginia Woolf's Marginalia Manuscript."

(3) Daugherty has considered the contents of Woolf's library before she married Leonard Woolf, noting volumes she learned to stamp in gold leaf. Sparks has addressed London's presence in Woolf's library, and Gillespie addresses Woolf's writing in, and her family members' drawings in books in her introduction to The Library of Leonard and Virginia Woolf: A Short-Title Catalog.

(4) Regarding Woolf's travels, see Dubino; for the plays Woolf translated, see Fernald, and Prins, "OTOTOTOI"; on the influence of Jane Harrison and Janet Case, see Marcus, Prins, and Mills; on academic institutions, see Cuddy-Keane; regarding Jacob, war, and the implications of the Greeks regarding sexuality, see Neverow, and Moffat (focusing on Forster).

(5) Annotating itself is an academic practice, as Jackson notes: "Writing notes in response to a text appears to be a habit acquired at school... Under instruction, children learn to mark the text conservatively, and to use the endpapers for institutionally approved, standard kinds of note-taking" (21).

(6) For considerations of the Hogarth Press, see Hammill and Hussey and Southworth.

(7) Regarding Woolf's Agamemnon notebook, see also Golden, "A Brief Note in the Margin."

(8) Prins demonstrates the extent to which Woolf was informed about different approaches to translating, and yet Prins may not be giving Woolf enough credit for her response to these contexts: "when Woolf returned to Aeschylus a decade later, the translation she chose to transcribe for her Agamemnon notebook was not by Headlam, but by Professor Verrall. Known as 'the Great Verrall', he was praised... for a poetic sense of Aeschylean language[.] ... In her notebook Woolf drew on Verrall's authority to enlarge her conception of Greek, and 'extend her reach' into English as well. Choosing Verrall over Headlam, she seems to have taken sides in a notorious debate between the two scholars about editing Aeschylus, in which Headlam claimed philological expertise and Verrall literary sensibility.... In contrast to Headlam and Verrall and their public debates about editing Aeschylus, she made this private 'edition' for herself to transpose their self-authorizing glosses into the unauthorized glossolalia of Ladies' Greek" ("OTOTOTOI" 173).

(9) For further treatment of Antigone in The Years, see Saloman.

(10) Woolf also cut pages from an existing play to form her Agamemnon notebook; a stack of discarded paper strips remains between its pages in the Berg Collection. See Golden, "A Brief Note in the Margin."

(11) Fernald sees this passage as demonstrating that Woolf "strove to find a balance between her love of poetry and the accuracy demanded by tutors and translators" (19-20).

(12) See Van Hulle's reading of the way that the speaker of Woolf's "The Mark on the Wall" shifts between her thoughts and the wall.

(13) Prins points out that "While girls might not have been trained to write ancient Greek with the proper accents or to pronounce it with the proper accentuation, an amateur's understanding made it seem even more desirable, accentuating the passion of Lady's Greek beyond a (merely) scholarly reading" ("OTOTOTOI" 170). Elsewhere, Prins notes that Woolf "recalled in her early journals how Miss Case 'procured a Grammar, & bade me start with the very first exercise' and 'never failed to point out, with perfect good humour that my exercises were detestable'" ("Sexual Politics" 171). Prins adds that "Although Miss Case never seemed to miss a case (grammatically speaking), Woolf also describes how 'she would spend a whole lesson in defining the relation of Aeschylus towards Fate' and proved herself 'a really valiant strong minded woman.... We strayed enough from grammar to let me see this'" (171)

(14) Colleen Lamos explains that "Woolf's relation to Greek seems paradoxical. On the one hand, she inherited it as a masculine tradition against which she fought bitterly throughout her life. On the other hand, Greek was a mode of intimacy with her teachers, lovers, friends, and brother--the means through which she formed and articulated some of her most passionate attachments. Rachel Bowlby describes this 'ambiguous' relation as Woolf's "'double vision' of Greek" (154-5). Fernald also "offer[s] a new way to understand how Woolf retained and transformed a tradition she loved into a source of resistance to patriarchy" (12-13) and notes that "her female tutors introduced her to a counterhistory of Greek heroines while providing a living model of how the discipline of Greek can be open to all" (18).

(15) One copy of Aeschylus includes a message in the back: "Thoby Stephen was a magnificent fellow... He was before me at Trinity." The book has a bookplate from Henry C. Adams of Magdalene College. The annotations and drawings in the book may have been Thoby's and the book's owner may have given it to the Woolfs. MASC.

(16) Jane Goldman observes in a recent review: "Hellenism and Loss thereby also shows that Greek studies fueled in Woolf 'a deep-rooted intellectual preoccupation with asymmetrical educational opportunities at the turn of the twentieth century'" (391).

(17) This evasion presents an extension of Quigley's sense that "Rather than providing 'clear, definite' and impartial answers to these questions... Woolf's next novel [Jacob's Room], through its fragmentation, gaps and narratorial asides, demonstrates the impossibility of ever finding objective answers" (90). While Quigley cites Woolf's observation in "On Not Knowing Greek," "[I]t is to the Greeks that we turn when we are sick of the vagueness" (qtd. in Quigley 84), Jacob's Greek books are part of an unclear sketch.

(18) Lurz sees Woolf's observation about reading as a statement that she is going to introduce Jacob's characteristics by means of his books, but does not do so: "The narrator's claim that 'any one who's worth anything reads just what he likes' suggests that a list of Jacob's reading preferences offers a window into the type of person he is. As such, however, she essentially looks past Jacob and any particularity of character that he might have in her drive to 'read' him" (111).

(19) In "Professions for Women," Woolf had also proposed that the amount of time in which the speaker was occupied in killing the "Angel in the House" "had better have been spent upon learning Greek grammar" (DM 238), presenting an opposition between intellectual pursuits and the home that her own mother, in teaching Woolf Greek grammar, prepared her daughter to make.

(20) The only textbook in the Woolfs' library is Cockerell, Bookbinding and the Care of Books: A Textbook for Bookbinders and Librarians (1901). MASC.

(21) Mid-nineteenth and early twentieth century text-books include Graham, Jamieson, and von Georgievics.

(22) The OED's example is from Mirror No. 38. The OED's previous reference to N. Bailey Dict. Britannicum (folio), 1730, to an obsolete meaning of the term suggests students' composition of a text to which the instructor would add comments: "Text-Book (in Universities is a Classick Author written very wide by the Students to give Room for an Interpretation dictated by the Master, &c. to be inserted in the Interlines" (s.v. 1). This presents a version of a student's notebook.

(23) Shifting from classical texts to literary ones, Woolf refers to a textbook as a reference guide in Orlando (1928), 167.

(24) Dalgarno explains that "Woolf read Antigone throughout her life and in three languages, in the process frequently noting her reservations about translation. She read the play with her first tutor, Clara Pater, between May and July 1900, and in 1901 wrote to her brother Thoby of the experience.... In 1919 Woolf read Antigone again, as her reading notes comment, "'in Greek'" (39).

(25) Between Woolf's study of Greek and her composition of Jacob's Room, she and Leonard founded the Hogarth Press, which might have brought the distribution of textbooks to her attention.

(26) In the Oxford University Press archives, files remain addressing the production of new editions of French lexicons and other texts. Oxford University Press archives. Oxford, UK.

(27) For further treatment of the roles of Greek and World War One in the novel, see Neverow's introduction to Jacob's Room.

(28) Stray adds, "In the 1870s in classics, the only books in the CPS with runs of more than 2,000 were Liddell and Scott's lexicons and Charles Wordsworth's Greek grammar and primer" ("Educational Publishing" 29). Liddell's daughter was the Alice who inspired Lewis Carroll's Alice in Wonderland, which contributes to his recognition (Curthoys 47-48). See Larabee regarding the history of Baedeker guides.

(29) Bulson notes that Woolf critiques "literary tourists" in a 1902 review and reviewed "a literary guidebook to Dickens" in her 1905 essay, "Literary Geography" (31).

(30) I thank Nathan Uglow for bringing Oxford Reds to my attention. Mills also points out that Jane Harrison's Mythology and Monuments of Ancient Athens (1890) "was known colloquially as 'The Blue Jane' for its blue cover and quickly became a standard travel guide for British travelers to Greece at the turn of the century" (21). If Woolf or other members of her family consulted this guide, they did not keep a copy as one does not remain in her library.

(31) In 1961, Leonard also traveled to Greece with Trekkie Parsons (Glendinning 396), and it is possible that the tickets could date from this trip. In 1932, the Woolfs' Baedeker became a place to conceal their currency: "We had been advised to hide all except 600 drachmas--where?... we disposed them all over--in the pockets of Baedeker, in an envelope" (D4 99). Woolf also visited a museum in Athens with Roger Fry that may have been included on this schedule (99)

(32) Lurz compares Jacob's impressions to the Omega Workshop's aesthetic, including the geometric shapes as a reflection of "the novel's larger attentiveness to the object world, it participates in the sensitivity to the material features of objects that was a major facet of the artistic and intellectual milieu in which Woolf composed her novel" (110).

(33) Dalgarno notes that Woolf's "final notes on Antigone are among those in a notebook that Silver dates 1931-9, and are keyed in the margin to the first 161 pages of the Jebb translation....In October 1934, she noted in her diary: 'Reading Antigone. How powerful that spell is still--Greek.... (D4: 257)" (40).

Article Details

Printer friendly Cite/link Email Feedback
Author:	Golden, Amanda
Publication:	Woolf Studies Annual
Article Type:	Critical essay
Geographic Code:	4EUUK
Date:	Jan 1, 2017
Words:	9443
Previous Article:	Remapping Female Subjectivity in Mrs. Dalloway: Scenic Memory and Woolf's "Bye-Street" Aesthetic.
Next Article:	It's You I Adore: On the Odes of Virginia Woolf.
Topics:	Novelists Criticism and interpretation Publishing industry Textbooks Translations Analysis