Chels

Virginia Woolf wrote her essay On Being Ill in 1925, and it was first published a year later in 1926. In her essay, Woolf lamented the scarcity of illness as a literary subject, and sought to argue for its inclusion in literature. One hundred years later, I’d like to reflect on her thoughts, and explore how the literary landscape has changed, if at all, in regards to illness.

Woolf wrote her essay while recovering from a nervous breakdown, one of several she would have in her life. Illness was prevalent in her circle, both mental and physical. Virginia herself was afflicted with mental illness throughout her life, and other members of the Bloomsbury group suffered with physical health. Two years prior to On Being Ill, Katherine Mansfield died from tuberculosis, an illness she is widely believed to have caught from DH Lawrence, who would also succumb to the illness in 1930. It’s interesting, because throughout the essay, I felt the focus was on physical illness rather than psychological, and when considering the literature already popular at the time it was written, all depictions of illness I could think of were either wholly psychological, or physical illnesses either brought on by or representative of mental anguish. Of course, the statistics are a bit skewed, because I love Romantic literature, and mental anguish, or madness, was often a key theme.

When I think of illness in literature prior to 1925, I think of Jane Austen heroines confined to their beds, of Anna Karenina’s mental instability, of Victor Frankenstein’s anguish. I also think of scarlet fever, which took the lives of Beth March and Caroline Frankenstein, among others I’m sure. Scarlet fever was a fear of its time, and understandably served as a plot point in literature. In these cases, the physical illness was not described in the same detail that mental anguish was. Woolf suggests that the reason we lacked true depictions of illness in literature is that there were no suitable words to describe the feeling of illness, the helplessness, but also the freedom, the peace and anguish it brings. Unfortunately, she negates her point by then going on to describe illness and wellness, as she always does, beautifully. Whenever I haven’t read her writing for a while, I’m caught off guard by Woolf’s talent.

Virginia Woolf highlights the regression to childhood that can come from illness. The need to be cared for, the almost helplessness, the loneliness and vulnerability of isolation. When I think of contemporary literature on illness, there are two novels that come to mind, and both involve young people. The Fault in our Stars was such a phenomenon at the time it was published – it followed Gus and Hazel, two teenagers with terminal cancer. The story does not shy away from depicting the vulnerability and isolation of their illness, and the fact that the characters are children makes the story all the more tragic.

Along the same lines, Five Feet Apart follows two teenagers with cystic fibrosis who fall in love, but due to their illnesses, are unable to come within six feet of one another. While I am less familiar with the novel than I am with The Fault in our Stars, I recall the isolation and vulnerability described in the novel. Both of these young adult romances deal with the psychological impact of illness, as well as the daily routine of treatment and management of symptoms, and it’s especially impactful to see children dealing with illness. The novels both have a love story alongside the depiction of illness, and I think Woolf is right in her assertion that illness should be considered one of the key themes alongside love and war, because the two themes lend themselves well in conjunction with one another.

There’s also Still Alice. In Lisa Genova’s novel, Alice Howland is a linguistics professor who is diagnosed with early onset Alzheimer’s. Through the novel, her physical and mental health declines as her disease progresses, and it’s such a harrowing story to read. I think it’s the sort of thing that Woolf would have intended to come from her essay. It really depicts the vulnerability and helplessness that comes from illness, and throughout the novel, Alice loses much of her independence, going from a very competent and well respected academic, to having some quite frightening moments of misunderstanding. On Being Ill is only a short essay, but I definitely recommend it. There’s some really interesting food for thought in there, and a lot to consider for creatives. It’s also just really well written, as all of Woolf’s essays are. I love her fiction, but I also love her essays. It feels very personal from her, knowing the context of the illness that surrounded her at the time, but it’s also very universal at the same time.