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As tensões temporais em Mrs Dalloway

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and cried out, ‘R<strong>em</strong><strong>em</strong>ber the party! R<strong>em</strong><strong>em</strong>ber our party tonight!’” 205 Não houve resposta.<br />

<strong>As</strong> duas já haviam saído da casa. Este grito de angústia, para que sua festa seja l<strong>em</strong>brada,<br />

parece ocupar o lugar de um vazio que se instaura. A sensação de estar perdendo sua filha faz<br />

com que Clarissa só consiga enunciar o futuro da festa, como um pretexto para a união; como<br />

se, através da pontualidade da hora, ela pudesse efetuar novamente a união entre ambas e<br />

preencher este vazio que insiste <strong>em</strong> se instalar. O mesmo já havia ocorrido com Peter. Neste<br />

sentido, Clarissa pode realmente pensar que a realização da festa serve para criar elos, laços,<br />

que, se já não se perderam, estão prestes a se perder. Por outro lado, esse direcionamento<br />

constante ao futuro da festa, pode estar sinalizando a única maneira que Clarissa t<strong>em</strong> de<br />

sobreviver: ocupando o lugar de mãe e de mulher. A possibilidade de perder Elizabeth e Peter<br />

equivaleria, então, à perda de seu lugar social e de si mesma. Enquanto Clarissa pensava no<br />

amor e na religião, observava sua vizinha - já idosa – enquanto ela subia as escadas de sua<br />

casa.<br />

Think of Peter in love – he came to see her after all these years,<br />

and what did he talk about? Himself. Horrible passion! she thought<br />

[...]<br />

Big Ben struck the half-hour.<br />

How extraordinary it was, strange, yes touching to see the old lady<br />

(they had been neighbours ever so many years) move away from the<br />

window, as if she were attached to that sound, that string. Gigantic as<br />

it was, it had something to do with her. Down, down, into the midst<br />

of ordinary things the finger fell making the moment sol<strong>em</strong>n. She<br />

was forced, so Clarissa imagined, by that sound, to move, to go – but<br />

where? [...] that’s the miracle, that’s the mystery; [...] was simply<br />

this: here was one room; there another. Did religion solve that, or<br />

love?<br />

Love – but here the other clock, the clock which always struck two<br />

minutes after Big Ben, came shuffling in with its lap full of odds and<br />

ends, which it dumped down as if Big Ben, were all very well with<br />

his majesty laying down the law, so sol<strong>em</strong>n, so just, but she must<br />

r<strong>em</strong><strong>em</strong>ber all sorts of little things besides [...] all sorts of little things<br />

came flooding and lapping and dancing in on the wake of that sol<strong>em</strong>n<br />

stroke, which lay flat like a bar of gold in the sea. [...] She must<br />

telephone now at once.<br />

Volubly, troblously, the late clock sounded, coming in on the wake of<br />

Big Ben, with its lap full of trifles. Beaten up, broken up by the<br />

assault of carriages, the brutality of vans, the eager advance of<br />

myriads of angular men, of flaunting women, the domes and spires of<br />

205 Id<strong>em</strong>, p. 92. “Com um súbito impulso, uma violenta angústia, pois aquela mulher lhe tirava a sua filha,<br />

Clarissa inclinou-se sobre o balaústre e gritou: ‘Não te esqueças da festa! Não te esqueças da nossa festa hoje à<br />

noite!” p. 122.<br />

96

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