Rezia

Regent Park

Lucrezia's lament for her life, page sixty five, pulls details from her surroundings that remind her of everything troubling. When a child "[runs] full tilt into her...and burst[s] out crying," she finds it comforting (Woolf 65). This comfort is short-lived, however, because Septimus will not have a child with her. The motherly nature can only be exercised on children that happen to cross her path and will leave just as quickly as the "child ran straight back to its nurse" (Woolf 65). A positivity associated with caring for the little girl immediately deteriorates into remembrance of Septimus and his refusal: negativity. As though the lack of a child to love is not enough of a burden, the everyday scene of "the broad path, the nurse, the man in grey, the perambulator" forces her to realize her vulnerability (Woolf 65). She is in a foreign country with a husband unable to comfort her despite the fact that it is his domain, not hers. The stress of her life results in a pessimistic mindset at the park, and superficial setting details and common occurrences are transformed into reminders of Rezia's suffering. It reminds me of just having a bad day when the weight of life seems to hang over you like a stalking cloud; nothing relieves without an embrace of optimism. The nature of Rezia's frequent laments leads me to believe she may be the embodiment of Woolf's spells of severe depression. There is no way a person could feel like that in Regent's Park.