Certa de que teria um terceiro colapso nervoso - nos outros dois, chegou a tentar o suicídio -, estava receosa de que jamais iria se recuperar de mais uma crise. Não conseguia mais escrever e estava receosa com os desdobramentos da Segunda Guerra Mundial, que já tinha bombardeado Londres e tinha destruído a residência do casal Woolf em 1940.
O suicídio foi, ao contrário do que muitos acreditam, foi o seu maior ato de coragem. A carta de despedida endereçada ao marido Leonard Woolf retrata com exatidão o sofrimento de Virginia:
Dearest,
I feel certain that I am going mad again. I feel we can't go through another of those terrible times. And I shan't recover this time. I begin to hear voices, and I can't concentrate. So I am doing what seems the best thing to do. You have given me the greatest possible happiness. You have been in every way all that anyone could be. I don't think two people could have been happier 'til this terrible disease came. I can't fight any longer. I know that I am spoiling your life, that without me you could work. And you will I know. You see I can't even write this properly. I can't read. What I want to say is I owe all the happiness of my life to you. You have been entirely patient with me and incredibly good. I want to say that — everybody knows it. If anybody could have saved me it would have been you. Everything has gone from me but the certainty of your goodness. I can't go on spoiling your life any longer.
I don't think two people could have been happier than we have been.
V.
Neste vídeo, a atriz Louise Brealey faz uma leitura dramatizada da carta de Virginia Woolf:
Nenhum comentário:
Postar um comentário