Three Guineas

Woolf writes another hypothetical letter to the treasurer of the society. This time, she says that she has decided to donate money to the society, but only if its members will “practice those professions in such a way as to prevent war” (56).

Imagining a view from a bridge over the Thames, Woolf describes a “procession of the sons of educated men” (57); they are generations of successful men who have passed through the institutions of power and have done nothing to disrupt the dominant mode of thought. But now, at the “tail end of the procession” (57), there are also women. Woolf asks “do we wish to join the procession, or don’t we?” (59), and, if so, on what terms and where is it going?

To answer these questions, Woolf refers to “the books on your library shelves” (60). Every biography, she notes, “is largely concerned with war” (60), and all professions (except, it seems, for literature) are engaged in some kind of war. Not all of these are physical battles, but “a battle that wastes time is as deadly as a battle that wastes blood” (60), as is the case for a battle that wastes money or youth.