Text - The New Dress

Mabel had her first serious suspicion (a belief or idea that something may be true, संदेह) that something was wrong as she took her cloak off and Mrs. Barnet, while handing her the mirror and touching the brushes and thus drawing her attention, [expand title="Read the complete lesson" swaptitle="Hide the Lesson"] perhaps rather markedly, to all the appliances for tidying (arrange neatly) and improving hair, complexion, clothes, which existed on the dressing table, confirmed the suspicion - that it was not right, not quite right, which growing stronger as she went upstairs and springing (move or jump suddenly or rapidly upwards or forwards:) at her, with conviction (a firmly held belief or opinion:) as she greeted Clarissa Dalloway, she went straight to the far end of the room, to a shaded corner where a looking-glass hung and looked. No! It was not RIGHT. And at once the misery (a state or feeling of great physical or mental distress or discomfort:) which she always tried to hide, the profound (very great/ intence) dissatisfaction - the sense she had had, ever since she was a child, of being inferior(low or lower in position) to other people - set upon her, relentlessly (in an unceasingly intense or harsh way), remorselessly(without regret or guilt:), with an intensity which she could not beat off (fight off) , as she would when she woke at night at home, by reading Borrow or Scott; for oh these men, oh these women, all were thinking- “What’s Mabel wearing? What a fright she looks! What a hideous (extremely ugly:) new dress!”- their eyelids flickering as they came up and then their lids shutting rather tight. It was her own appalling (bad) inadequacy (inability to deal with a situation or with life:); her cowardice (lack of bravery:); her mean(feeling) , water-sprinkled blood that depressed her.

And at once the whole of the room where, for ever so many hours, she had planned with the little dressmaker how it was to go, seemed sordid (low quality,घटिया), repulsive (lacking friendliness or sympathy) ; and her own drawing-room so shabby(in poor condition) , and herself, going out, puffed up (out of breath:) with vanity (excessive pride) as she touched the letters on the hall table and said: “How dull!” to show off - all this now seemed unutterably (too great or awful to describe) silly, paltry (very small ), and provincial (रुरल). All this had been absolutely destroyed, shown up, exploded(having burst), the moment she came into Mrs. Dalloway’s drawing-room.

What she had thought that evening when, sitting over the tea -cups, Mrs. Dalloway’s invitation came, was that, of course, she could not be fashionable. It was absurd (wildly unreasonable) to pretend it even - fashion meant cut, meant style, meant thirty guineas गिनी (a former British gold coin / 21 shilling) at least - but why not be original? Why not be herself, anyhow? And, getting up, she had taken that old fashion book of her mother’s, a Paris fashion book of the time of the Empire, and had thought how much prettier (beautiful) , more dignified (noble, उचा), and more womanly they were then, and so set herself - oh, it was foolish - trying to be like them, pluming (decorating with or as if with feathers) herself in fact, upon being modest and old-fashioned, and very charming, giving herself up, no doubt about it, to an orgy (party) of self-love, which deserved to be chastised (spend money), and so rigged (planned) herself out like this.
But she dared not look in the glass. She could not face the whole horror - the pale yellow, idiotically old- fashioned silk dress with its long skirt and its high sleeves and its waist and all the things that looked so charming in the fashion book, but not on her, not among all these ordinary people. She felt like a dressmaker’s dummy standing there, for young people to stick pins into.
“But, my dear, it’s perfectly charming (very pleasant or attractive:)!” Rose Shaw said, looking her up and down with that little satirical(mocking another's weaknesses) pucker (fold) of the lips which she expected - Rose herself being dressed in the height of the fashion, precisely (exactly) like everybody else, always.
1. We are all like flies trying to crawl(creep) over the edge of the saucer, Mabel thought, and repeated the phrase as if she were crossing herself, as if she were trying to find some spell(words) to annul(nullify/decrease) this pain, to make this agony(pain) endurable (bearable). Tags (add) of Shakespeare, lines from books she had read ages ago, suddenly came to her when she was in agony, and she repeated them over and over again. “Flies trying to crawl,” she repeated. If she could say that over often enough and make herself see the flies, she would become numb(no physical sensation सुन्न:), chill (cold/cool), frozen(turn into ice), dumb (गुंगा/ temporarily unable or unwilling to speak). Now she could see flies crawling slowly out of a saucer of milk with their wings stuck (using power of ) together; and she strained and strained(showing signs of nervous tension or tiredness:तणावपूर्ण) (standing in front of the looking- glass, listening to Rose Shaw) to make herself see Rose Shaw and all the other people there as flies, trying to hoist (rise) themselves out of something, or into something, meager (lack of qualityमामुली), insignificant(too small or unimportant to be worth consideration तुच्छ), toiling flies. But she could not see them like that, not other people. She saw herself like that - she was a fly, but the others were dragonflies (a fast-flying long-bodied predatory insect with two pairs of large transparent wings which are spread out sideways at rest), butterflies, beautiful insects, dancing, fluttering(flying unsteadily), skimming (the removal of a substance from the surface of a liquid:), while she alone dragged herself up out of the saucer. (Envy and spite (ill feeling/ desire to hurt ), the most detestable ( intense dislike घृणास्पद) of the vices (wicked behaviour), were her chief faults.)

“I feel like some dowdy (unfashionable and unstylish in appearance, बेस्वाद), decrepit (डीक्रेपिटworn out or ruined जीर्ण), horribly dingy (gloomy and drab:गंदा) old fly,” she said, making Robert Haydon stop just to hear her say that, just to reassure herself by furbishing (give a fresh look to (something old or shabby)) up a poor weak-kneed (weak and shaky as a result of fear or excitement) phrase and so showing how detached (separate or disconnected.अलगढलग) she was, how witty(funny), that she did not feel in the least out of anything. And, of course, Robert Haydon answered something, quite polite, quite insincere (इन्सिसिक्सिअर/false/artificial) , which she saw through instantly, and said to herself, directly he went (again from some book), “Lies, lies, lies!” For a party makes things either much more real, or much less real, she thought; she saw in a flash to the bottom of Robert Haydon’s heart; she saw through everything. She saw the truth. This was true, this drawing-room, this self, and the other false. Miss Milan’s little workroom was really terribly hot, stuffy(lacking fresh air or ventilation), sordid. It smelt of clothes and cabbage cooking; and yet, when Miss Milan put the glass in her hand, and she looked at herself with the dress on, finished, an extraordinary bliss (perfect happiness; great joy) shot through her heart. Suffused (gradually spread through or over)with light, she sprang (move or jump suddenly) into existence. Rid of (free from) cares and wrinkles, what she had dreamed of herself was there-a beautiful woman. Just for a second (she had not dared look longer, Miss Milan wanted to know about the length of the skirt), there looked at her, framed in the scrolloping (decorated) mahogany(a rich reddish-brown colour like that of mahogany wood) , a grey-white, mysteriously smiling, charming girl, the core of herself, the soul of herself; and it was not vanity(funny) only, not only self-love that made her think it good, tender(kind), and true. Miss Milan said that the skirt could not well be longer; if anything the skirt, said Miss Milan, puckering (small fold/wrinkle) her forehead, considering with all her wits about her, must be shorter; and she felt, suddenly, honestly, full of love for Miss Milan, much, much fonder of Miss Milan than of any one in the whole world, and could have cried for pity that she should be crawling on the floor with her mouth full of pins, and her face red and her eyes bulging(swollen due to pressure from inside)- that one human being should be doing this for another, and she saw them all as human beings merely, and herself going off to her party, and Miss Milan pulling the cover over the canary’s cage, or letting him pick a hemp-seed from between her lips, and the thought of it, of this side of human nature and its patience and its endurance and its being content with such miserable, scanty, sordid, little pleasures filled her eyes with tears.

And now the whole thing had vanished. The dress, the room, the love, the pity, the scrolloping looking-glass, and the canary’s cage-all had vanished, and here she was in a corner of Mrs. Dalloway’s drawing-room, suffering tortures, woken wide awake to reality.

But it was all so paltry(very small ), weak-blooded(cool), and petty- minded to care so much at her age with two children, to be still so utterly dependent on people’s opinions and not have principles or convictions (firm belief), not to be able to say as other people did, “There’s Shakespeare! There’s death! We’re all weevils(a small beetle) in a captain’s biscuit” - or whatever it was that people did say.

She faced herself straight in the glass; she pecked at her left shoulder; she issued (wanted to) out into the room, as if spears (a weapon with a pointed tip) were thrown at her yellow dress from all sides. But instead of looking fierce (very; extremely) or tragic (causing distress or sorrow), as Rose Shaw would have done-Rose would have looked like Boadicea(an English queen who fought like rani) -she looked foolish and self-conscious (nervous), and simpered (smiling) like a schoolgirl and slouched (sit/move/stand) across the room, positively slinking (move smoothly and quietly with gliding steps, in a stealthy or sensuous manner), as if she were a beaten mongrel (dog), and looked at a picture, an engraving(the process or art of engraving a design on a hard surface कोरीव काम ). As if one went to a party to look at a picture! Everybody knew why she did it - it was from shame, from humiliation (insult).

“Now the fly’s in the saucer,” she said to herself, “right in the middle, and can’t get out, and the milk,” she thought, rigidly (in a strict or exacting way) staring ( look fixedly) at the picture, “is sticking its wings together.”

“It’s so old-fashioned,” she said to Charles Burt, making him stop (which by itself he hated) on his way to talk to some one else. She meant, or she tried to make herself think that she meant, that it was the picture and not her dress, that was old-fashioned. And one word of praise, one word of affection from Charles would have made all the difference to her at the moment. If he had only said, “Mabel, you’re looking charming tonight!” it would have changed her life. But then she ought to have been truthful and direct. Charles said nothing of the kind, of course. He was malice (wrongful intention) itself. He always saw through one, especially if one were feeling particularly mean, paltry(worthless), or feeble-minded(unable to make intelligent decisions or judgements; foolish or stupid.).
“Mabel’s got a new dress!” he said, and the poor fly was absolutely shoved (pushed) into the middle of the saucer. Really, he would like her to drown (insulted), she believed. He had no heart, no fundamental kindness (being polite, compassionate and thoughtful), only a veneer (अनें../covering/artificial लिबास) of friendliness. Miss Milan was much more real, much kinder. If only one could feel that and stick (think about) to it, always. “Why,” she asked herself-replying to Charles much too pertly( attractive), letting (allowing/showing) him see that she was out of temper (घुस्सा), or “ruffled” (not in proper) as he called it (“Rather ruffled(झालरदार)?” he said and went on to laugh at her with some woman over there)-“Why,” she asked herself, “can’t I feel one thing always, feel quite sure that Miss Milan is right, and Charles wrong and stick (will never change) to it, feel sure about the canary(African seed eating song bird) and pity and love and not be whipped (smooth/ not using harsh words) all round in a second by coming into a room full of people?” It was her odious (extremely unpleasant), weak, vacillating (thinking on various points/wavering between different opinions or actions) character again, always giving at the critical moment(Serious situation) and not being seriously interested in conchology (cuncology/ the scientific study or collection of shells/ शंख विज्ञान), etymology (the study of the origin of words), botany, archeology(the study of human history through the excavation of sites and the analysis of physical remains.), cutting up potatoes and watching them fructify (carefully/successfully) like Mary Dennis, like Violet Searle.

Then Mrs. Holman, seeing her standing there, bore down (To move rapidly in wrong intention) upon her. Of course a thing like a dress was beneath (came in/ not in) Mrs. Holman’s notice, with her family always tumbling (fall suddenly) downstairs (in problem) or having the scarlet fever (high temperature). Could Mabel tell her if Elmthorpe was ever let for August and September (could Mable pay attention to her)? Oh, it was a conversation that bored her unutterably (difficult to describe)!— it made her furious (angry) to be treated like a house agent or a messenger boy, to be made use of. Not to have value, that was it, she thought, trying to grasp something hard, something real, while she tried to answer (tell) sensibly about the bathroom and the south aspect and the hot water to the top of the house; and all the time she could see little bits of her yellow dress in the round looking-glass which made them all the size of boot-buttons or tadpoles; and it was amazing to think how much humiliation (insulting) and agony (pain/torture) and self-loathing (feeling dislike) and effort and passionate (strong feeling) ups and downs of feeling were contained in a thing the size of a three penny bit. And what was still odder (strange), this thing, this Mabel Waring, was separate, quite disconnected; and though Mrs. Holman (the black button) was leaning (bent) forward and telling her how her eldest boy had strained (showing signs of nervous tension)his heart running, she could see her, too, quite detached in the looking-glass, and it was impossible that the black dot(Mrs. Holman) , leaning forward, gesticulating (गेस्टिकुलेट/ use gestures, dramatically instead of speaking a word), should make the yellow dot (Mebal)), sitting solitary, self-centred, feel what the black dot was feeling, yet they pretended.
“So impossible to keep boys quiet”- that was the kind of thing one said.

And Mrs. Holman, who could never get enough sympathy (feelings of pity and sorrow for someone else's misfortune) and snatched (pay / grab attention) what little there was greedily(excessive desire), as if it were her right (near) (but she deserved much more for there was her little girl who had come down (come home) this morning with a swollen knee-joint), took this miserable offering and looked at it suspiciously, grudgingly (properly/ complainingly) , as if it were a halfpenny when it ought to have been a pound (equal to 100 pence) and put it away in her purse, must put up with it, mean and miserly though it was, times being hard, so very hard; and on she went, creaking (making high sound), injured Mrs. Holman, about the girl with the swollen-joints. Ah, it was tragic, this greed, this clamour
(sound/noise) of human beings, like a row of cormorants,( कॉर्मोरेंट/ a large diving bird with a long neck) barking and flapping their wings for sympathy-it was tragic, could one have felt it and not merely pretended to feel it!
But in her yellow dress to-night she could not wring (get sympathy/ feel pain) out one drop more; she wanted it all (which she expected from Mable), all for herself. She hat dreadfully (extremely/very) showing-up blue pool (pity)) that she was condemned(निंदा), despised (तिरस्कार/feel contempt), left like this in a backwater, because of her being like this a feeble (faint/weak), vacillating creature(thinking nature) ; and it seemed to her that the yellow dress was a penance (punishment) which she had deserved(लायक/rightful), and if she had been dressed like Rose Shaw, in lovely, clinging (fitting closely to the body and showing its shape) green with a ruffle of swans down (a thick cotton fabric) , she would have deserved that; and she thought that there was no escape (fail to be noticed) for her-none what so ever (Nobody will see). But it was not her fault altogether (कुल मिलाकर/ absolutely), after all. It was being one of a family of ten (Members) ; never having money enough (poor/ lack of money) , always skimping (कंजूसी/spending less money) and paring (cut off); and her mother carrying great cans, and the linoleum (लिनोलियम/ material) worn (damaged and shabby) on the stair edges, and one sordid (poor/dirty) little domestic tragedy after another-nothing catastrophic (भयावह/ distructive) the sheep farm failing, but not utterly (finished/ completely) ; her eldest brother marrying beneath (lower cast) him but not very much(not successful marriage life)-there was no romance (joy/happiness), nothing extreme about them all. They petered (decrease or fade/ finished/ not to expect) out respectably in seaside resorts; every watering-place had one of her aunts even now (regularly) asleep in some lodging with the front windows not quite facing the sea. That was so like them-they had to squint (spend time or enjoy/neglected) at things always. And she had done the same-she was just like her aunts. For all her dreams of living in India, married to some hero like Sir Henry Lawrence, some empire builder (still the sight of a native in a turban filled her with romance), she had failed utterly. She had married Hubert, with his safe, permanent underling's job in the Law Courts, and they managed tolerably in a smallish house, without proper maids, and hash (a dish of cooked meat cut into small pieces and cooked again, usually with potatoes.) when she was alone or just bread and butter, but now and then Mrs Holman was off (went from there leaving her alone) , thinking her the most dried-up(not interested) , unsympathetic (not showing sympathy) twig (wood/ stick) she had ever(never) met, absurdly(ridiculously/मूर्ख) dressed, too, and would tell every one about Mabel's fantastic appearance - now and then(again and again), thought Mabel Waring, left alone on the blue sofa, punching the cushion in order to look occupied(busy), for she would not join Charles Burt and Rose Shaw, chattering like magpies (a long-tailed Australasian crow with black-and-white plumage and a noisy call.) and perhaps laughing at her by the fireplace - now and then, there did come to (remember) her delicious moments, reading the other night in bed, for instance, or down by the sea on the sand in the sun, at Easter - let her recall it - a great tuft(bunch) of pale sand-grass standing all twisted like a shock of spears against the sky, which was blue like a smooth china egg, so firm, so hard, and then the melody (sweet sound) of the waves -“Hush, hush,” they said, and the children’s shouts paddling (act of moving and playing) - yes, it was a divine (delightful/godly) moment, and there she lay, she felt, in the hand of the Goddess who was the world; rather a hard hearted, but very beautiful Goddess, a little lamb laid on the altar (one did think these silly things, and it didn’t matter so long as one never said them). And also with Hubert sometimes she had quite unexpectedly carving the mutton for Sunday lunch, for no reason, opening a letter, coming into a room - divine moments, when she said to herself (for she would never say this to anybody else), “This is it. This has happened. This is it!” And the other way about it was equally surprising - that is, when everything was arranged - music, weather, holidays, every reason for happiness was there - then nothing happened at all. One wasn’t happy. It was flat (boring/dull) , just flat (joyless), that was all.

Her wretched self (unhappiness) again, no doubt! She had always been a fretful (expressing distress), weak, unsatisfactory mother, a wobbly (not firm/ a fit of temper or panic:) wife, lolling (sit, lie, or stand in a lazy) about in a kind of twilight (dull light of evening) existence with nothing very clear or very bold, or more one thing than another, like all her brothers and sisters, except perhaps Herbert they were all the same poor water-veined creatures who did nothing. Then in the midst (middle) of this creeping, crawling life, suddenly she was on the crest (reach the top of) of a wave. That wretched (bad) fly - where had she read the story that kept coming into her mind about the fly and the saucer? - struggled out. Yes, she had those moments. But now that she was forty, they might come more and more seldom. By degrees she would cease to struggle any more. But that was deplorable (shockingly bad in quality)! That was not to be endured! That made her feel ashamed of herself!

She would go to the London Library tomorrow. She would find some wonderful, helpful, astonishing book, quite by chance, a book by a clergyman, by an American no one had ever heard of; or she would walk down the Strand and drop, accidentally, into a hall where a miner was telling about the life in the pit (problem of their life), and suddenly she would become a new person. She would be absolutely transformed. She would wear a uniform (dress of nun) ; she would be called Sister Somebody; she would never give a though to clothes again. And for ever after she would be perfect, clear about Charles Burt and Miss Milan and this room and that room; and it would be always, day after day, as if she were lying in the sun or carving the mutton. It would be it. So she got up from the blue sofa, and the yellow button in the looking-glass got up too, and she waved her hand to Charles and Rose to show them she did not depend on them one scrap, and the yellow button moved out of the looking-glass, and all the spears were gathered into her breast(chest) as she walked towards Mrs. Dalloway and said
"Good night."

"But it's too early to go”, said Mrs. Dalloway, who was always so charming.

"I'm afraid I must," said Mabel Waring. "But," she added in her weak, wobbly voice which only sounded ridiculous when she tried to strengthen it, "I have enjoyed myself enormously."

"I have enjoyed myself," she said to Mr. Dalloway, whom she met on the stairs.

"Lies, lies, lies!" she said to herself, going downstairs and "Right in the saucer!" she said to herself as she thanked Mrs. Barnet for helping her and wrapped herself, round and round and round, in the Chinese clock she had worn these twenty years.
(- Virginia Woolf) [/expand]