“Dear Leonard. To look life in the face. Always to look life in the face and to know it for what it is. At last to know it. To love it for what it is, and then, to put it away. Leonard. Always the years between us. Always the years. Always the love. Always the hours.” (Virginia, The Hours)
“But there are still the hours, aren't there? One and then another, and you get through that one and then, my god, there's another.” (Richard, The Hours)
Virginia or Richard's interpretation of the hours? Or, in other words, do the hours stand for the love between two people or are they endless counters ticking off the miles until we reach the end of a journey? I want to believe in the first interpretation, but evidence pulls me toward the second. Even if the hours are defined by a shared love, doesn't each of us end our journeys alone? Even Virginia suggests so: "To love it for what it is, and then, to put it way." Maybe life comes down to a Sylvia Plath quote: “God, but life is loneliness, despite all the opiates, despite the shrill tinsel gaiety of 'parties' with no purpose, despite the false grinning faces we all wear." Is that loneliness what we're meant to look in the face? To love life for? I don't. Because there are still the hours, aren't there? One and then another, and you get through that one and then, my god, there's another." Perhaps Richard is right.