Drip, Drip, Drip

Hi team! Sorry I've been sick for so long, the mono monster got me and kidnapped all of my health. I'll definitely be back and ready for action on Thursday though. Honest this time.

In finishing The Waves, I still feel (no pun intended) slightly lost at sea as to exactly what I just read. There were several sections, at several different instances, which I had to read over and over again with a singular hope that I may actually glean anything from it. I have a much better grasp on the reading now that I've finished it, but it was not without a quantifiable amount of uphill struggle on my end.

Reading difficulties aside, I'd like to discuss Bernard and his "drops." His initial dealings with 'drop' occur after the seventh section of the waves:
"'And time,' said Bernard, 'lets fall its drop. The drop that has formed on the roof of the soul falls. On the roof of my mind time, forming, lets fall its drop... This drop falling has nothing to do with losing my youth. This drop falling is time tapering to a point'" (134).

What intrigues me about these "drops" is the stark contrast it provides with the rest of the book. As we pass through the various sections, we see waves crash, move, swell, and flow with power and vast size. Yet drops--like the ones Bernard describes above--are small, powerless, and seemingly insignificant in comparison. However, despite their several differences, drops and waves have one thing in common: rhythm. A sink leaking drip, drip, drips in the same monotonous pace. Waves surge and retreat according to the lunar calendar. It may not be the most distinct of patterns, but a pattern does eventually emerge, and therefore rhythm is present. It seems that, while Woolf's waves ultimately shape the timeline for her characters in the book, Bernard's drops are more of an individual understanding of the passage time. Time is the one that "lets fall its drop." It may be a stretch, but it seems that time, for Bernard, is more closely related to the dripping of a sink, rather than the crashing of the ocean waves. Time passes, drop by drop. And each of those drops is a particular moment, a specific instance in time. In this quote, Bernard is discussing himself experiencing said "drop" of time while shaving. This "drop" spurns him into declaring, "I have lost my youth," a statement even Bernard declares as "more dramatic" (134). It is the habitual actions of shaving, that spark this feeling within him. Once time "lets fall its drop," Bernard is awakened to the idea that "habit covers" (134). Bernard does not needs waves to crash consciousness into him, but instead requires the persistent, unchanging drop, drop, dropping of time.

I bring up "drops" because it is present throughout the rest of The Waves. Bernard mentions them on pages 164, 182, 183, 187, and 198. I feel like I could probably write an entire paper on what drops could potentially mean within the novel, (especially because Bernard is not the only culprit) but I'm gonna keep my analysis to the quote above if that's alright.