Woolf Salon No. 31: Let Flowers Fall, will celebrate Virginia woolf scholar and friend Elisa Kay Sparks, who passed away Aug. 16 in Seattle, Washington.
A message about the salon, set for Saturday, Sept. 27, at 1 p.m. EST on Zoom, included these words:
We loved her. Love her. The salons delighted no one more than Elisa. In fact, a Zoom get-together that she hosted for Woolfians in early June 2020 was the inspiration for the Salon Project, which launched a little over a month later (23 July 2020). She attended nearly all—if not all thirty—of the salons and especially loved seeing new faces among the faces of her friends. And she’ll be in attendance again—with us, through us—for No. 31. And 32. And 33…
We plan to dress in teals, purples, greens, and pinks; to read favorite floral passages together (from Woolf or elsewhere!); and to share memories of dear Elisa, too. We encourage you to do the same—to dress in her colors, to bring passages to read, to share memories. In short: to celebrate.
The details
Hosts: Salon Conspirators Date: Saturday, Sept. 27 Length: 2 hours
Time: 1 p.m. EDT (New York); noon CDT (Chicago); 11 a.m. MDT (Albuquerque); 11 a.m. CST (México City); 10 a.m. PDT (Los Angeles); 2 p.m. (Rio de Janeiro)
6 p.m. BST (London); 7 p.m. CEST (Paris); 8 p.m. (Tallinn; Istanbul; Moscow); 2 a.m. JST Sat 9/28 (Tokyo); 3 a.m. AEST Sat 9/28 (Sydney) Please check time conversions. Who is invited: Any and all who wish to attend: common readers, close friends, admirers from afar, Woolfians, non-Woolfians, the Woolf Curious and on… Where: On Zoom Homework: Bring some colors, some passages to read, and some memories to share. Floral profusions encouraged. How: Contact woolfsalonproject@gmail.com to sign up for the email list and receive the Zoom link.
Background on the Salon
The Salon Conspirators — Benjamin Hagen, Shilo McGiff, Amy Smith, and Drew Shannon — began the Woolf Salon Project in July 2020 to provide opportunities for conversation and conviviality among Woolf-interested scholars, students, and common readers during and beyond the COVID-19 pandemic.
Editor’s Note: Additional recollections of Elisa Sparks’ contributions to the Woolf community and beyond were added to this post on 22 August, 2025.
I could never think of Virginia Woolf and flowers without thinking of Elisa Kay Sparks, who died Aug. 16 in Seattle, Washington.
Woolf, flowers and gardens were Elisa’s specialty, and she shared her passion and her knowledge with Woolf readers and scholars around the world — through her published writing, at conferences, through her many personal relationships, and via her social media accounts.
A teacher of literature (contemporary, modern British, and science fiction) and women’s studies for 35 years at Clemson University, Elisa published articles on parks, gardens, and flowers in Virginia Woolf’s life and work as well as a number of pieces exploring connections between the works of Woolf and the American Modernist painter Georgia O’Keeffe.
She was under contract to write an inclusive study of Woolf’s use of flowers in her novels, and she had finished its 300 pages before she died.
She was also working on a series of woodcuts of the 98 flowers that appear in Woolf’s novels, a project she planned to present at the 36th Annual International Conference on Virginia Woolf in Oslo, Norway, in 2027.
The woodcut project is no surprise. For besides being a scholar and a writer, Elisa was also a printmaker, specializing in color-reduction woodblocks and encaustic monotype, as well as experimenting with other forms of art.
Tributes to Elisa from around the globe
A memorial service for Elisa is being planned. Meanwhile, tributes to Elisa were posted to the VWoolf Listserv and on her Facebook page and others. Please post yours as a comment below.
“She was, in the words of Shilo McGiff, `a wild and beautiful soul’ and she loved and cared for so many of us in the Woolf community for many, many years,” according to Anne Fernald in her post that shared the news of Elisa’s passing with the VWoolf Listserv.
Elisa Bolchi’s wall of artwork that includes a piece by Elisa Kay Sparks.
From Elisa Bolchi, co-editor of The Edinburgh Companion to Virginia Woolf and Transnational Perspectives: “An artist never dies. In my house in Ferrara, @ekaysparks is on the wall behind my sofa, with a work titled ‘Talland House Ghosts’ that I bought at the Annual Woolf Conference at Fort Meyers, Florida. It’s colourful, poetical, inspiring, like she was. You’ll be missed, Elisa. But you’ll live with us, and make our memories colourful and bright. Because an artist never dies.”
From Helen Southworth: “She was funny, kind, engaged, and very creative. I never visited her Woolf World, but it captures nicely her adventurousness. I’m imagining her laughing and bustling about, cooking up a new project on her Woolf island surrounded by O’Keefe-inspired flowers!”
From Louisa Albani, artist and the publisher of Nightbird Press: “Elisa was a real supporter of my Virginia Woolf artworks and one of the artworks she purchased was of Virginia Woolf describing her mother standing by the purple passion flowers that grew on the balcony of Talland.”
Facebook post by Mine Özyurt Kılıç
From Mine Özyurt Kılıç of the Woolf Arts Archive: “Your earthly herbarium of human and non-human beings will miss you so much, dear Elisa Kay Sparks.”
From neighbor Annika Bowden: “Rest in peace, Elisa. Thank you so much for your friendship, kindness, and infectious positive attitude. Our little neighborhood is not the same without you and you are desperately missed by many of us.”
From Angeliki Spiropoulou: “Elisa was a prominent member of the Woolf community who has contributed original, insightful and sensitive work to Woolf studies, a kind, sparkling and inspiring academic, artist and friend. She will be missed by all who knew her.”
Elisa’s beloved dog
From Laura Cernat: “Elisa will be dearly missed. I wasn’t able to meet her in person either, but at the Woolf Salons she was a vibrant presence and an indispensable source of insights (and complete bibliographies on a variety of topics). I am glad that I got to know her, at least virtually, and that the Woolf Herbarium blog lives on as part of her legacy. So sad to hear about her passing.”
From Katherine Hill-Miller: “Like all of us, I am so sorry to hear of Elisa’s death. She was a bright light in the Woolf world, a woman who unfailingly welcomed, engaged, and supported others. It goes without saying that Elisa’s work on flowers and plants is an invaluable tool for all of us. But Elisa was, quite simply, a wonderfully loving woman. I miss her deeply. A light has gone out.”
From Diana Swanson: “Elisa’s Woolf scholarship is important, original, interesting, and often fun. I honor her for that. And I honor her for her art and her support of other artists. I honor her more, though, for something she may not have mentioned to many on the Woolf listserv. Some years ago, I shared with Elisa and a few others at a Woolf conference that I was searching out ways of supporting a girls boarding high school that I had visited in rural Kenya, a school founded by two Kenyan friends of mine to provide ‘an education good enough for the richest, open to the poorest.’ Sometime after that, Elisa came to me with an idea. In memory of her parents, both scientists, she offered to support the teaching of science at Jane Adeny Memorial School (JAMS). The result became ‘Sparks Lab,’ a science building in which, as of today, more than 350 Kenyan girls have studied biology, chemistry, and physics. Thanks to Elisa’s gift, many JAMS alums are now either studying for, or currently pursuing, careers in agriculture, medicine, and the sciences. One young woman is even now studying at the university in Illinois where I used to teach, researching crop plant diseases with the goal of helping to reduce the kind of hunger she herself experienced growing up. Elisa touched my heart, and transformed lives, with her care and compassion for people she never met but whose lives she could imagine and value.
From Anne Fernald: “She was ill with cancer, but, although her death came quickly, she was surrounded by friends and knew how much the many of us who could not be present with her in Seattle loved her. Before she died, she shared an incredibly cheerful and brave message about her dog, the flowers, the birds, and how she was letting herself be taken care of in her illness. I know that many of you will join me in grieving and celebrating the life of this wonderful woman.”
A blessing cast
Below is Elisa’s July 3 post on Facebook. And yes, she did cast a blessing to all who knew her.
Stuart was known for his encyclopedic knowledge of Virginia Woolf, often stepping up to answer esoteric questions posed to the VW Listserv.
“His vigorous recall of facts and quotations not only astounded those around him but became a reliable resource for the Society and its members,” according to the email from the society’s executive committee that announced his passing. “The Society would not have been what it has grown to become without the seemingly endless, encyclopaedic knowledge that Stuart had of Virginia Woolf’s life and work.”
The Centre for Modernist Cultures at the University of Birmingham made him an Honorary Fellow in 2022 “in recognition of his exceptional contribution to the study of Virginia Woolf.”
His work as a distinguished textual editor includes Volumes 5 and 6 of The Essays of Virginia Woolf (Hogarth Press, 2009 and 2011), A Room of One’s Own with David Bradshaw (Shakespeare Head Press, 2015), and Jacob’s Room for The Cambridge Edition of the Works of Virginia Woolf (Cambridge University Press, 2020). Among his earlier publications are Orlando: The Original Holograph Draft (1993), and Translations from the Russian (2006), a volume devoted to the collaborative translations undertaken by Virginia Woolf and S.S. Koteliansky.
To honor Stuart’s dedication, the VWSGB will produce a supplement with the next issue of the Bulletin, containing pieces written by his fellow Woolfians in appreciation of his huge contribution to Woolf studies over the years.
Tributes should reach the society at bulletinvwsgb@gmail.com by March 1. You can also post your memories about Stuart in the Comments section below.
Virginia Woolf died 83 years ago today, on March 28, 1941. Lots has been written about her life — and her death. But today I want to suggest that we remember her by reading her work.
The Virginia Woolf Society of Great Britain is doing just that by organizing a new Woolf and Bloomsbury reading group for members only, which gives us one more reason to join that esteemed society.
The group will read the works of Virginia Woolf and some of her Bloomsbury contemporaries and friends to find connections, influences and similarities between them.
The meetings will be a mixture of face-to-face and online discussions, with the kick-off meeting to take place online on April 6.
The May meeting will be the first reading group, which will focus on a discussion of The Voyage Out.
You can be a part of it by joining the Virginia Woolf Society of Great Britain, starting at £25 (£10 students).
Read Woolf on your own
You can also vow to read Woolf on your own. Take a look at two ways to do this in this recent post on Blogging Woolf.
Tday is Virginia Woolf’s birthday. She was born in Kensington, London, 142 years ago today, on Jan. 25, 1882, at 12:15 p.m.
On her birthday in 2016, I shared the entries from her published diaries dated on her birthday or the day after. I am repeating them here. Some refer specifically to the gifts she received, the things she did, and the people she saw on her birthday.
The last one, written on Jan. 26, 1941, the year of her death, does not. Instead, it speaks of the despair brought about by life in the middle of a war:
Its the cold hour, this, before the lights go up. A few snowdrops in the garden. Yes, I was thinking: we live without a future. – D5 355
1897
A Passionate Apprentice [1990] (ed. by Mitchell A. Leaska) The early journals, 1897-1909
Monday 25 January
My birthday. No presents at breakfast and none til Mr Gibbs came, bearing a great parcel under his arms, which turned out to be a gorgeous Queen Elizabeth — by Dr Creighton. I went out for a walk round the pond after breakfast with father, it being Nessas drawing day. Went out with Stella to Hatchards about some book for Jack, and then to Regent St. for flowers and fruit for him; then to Wimpole St. to see how he had slept, and then to Miss Hill in Marylebone Rd. Jo [Fisher] was there discussing the plans for Stellas new cottages with Miss Hill. All three learnedly argued over them for half an hour, I sitting on a stool by the fire and surveying Miss Hills legs — Nessa went back to her drawing after lunch, and Stella and I went to Story’s to buy me an arm chair, which is to be Ss present to me — We got a very nice one, and I came straight home, while Stella went on to Wimpole St. Gerald gave me £1, and Adrian a holder for my stylograph —Father is going to give me Lockharts Life of Scott — Cousin Mia gave me a diary and another pocket book. Thoby writes to say that he has ordered films for me. Got Carlyles Reminiscences, which I have read before. Reading four books at once — The Newcomes, Caryle, Old Curiosity Shop, and Queen Elizabeth — (APA 21-22)
1905
25 January
Another lazy morning — read however the greater part of my review book, so that will be written tomorrow with luck — & then? — I must turn about for something fresh to do. My birthday, by the way — the 25th but, as usual, it was somehow rather forgotten which one begins to expect at my age —! Violet to lunch, & she did bring a present — a huge china inkpot which holds almost a jar full of ink, & is rather too large to be practicable. I must cultivate a bold hand & a quill pen — Georges motor after lunch, in which we did various long distance jobs — then home, read my review book, & dinner at 7.30 as we went with Gerald to Peter Pan, Barries play — imaginative & witty like all of his, but just too sentimental — However it was a great treat (APA 227-228).
1915
The Diary of Virginia Woolf, Vol. I 1977 (ed. by Anne Olivier Bell) 1915-1919
Monday 25 January
My birthday—& let me count up all the things I had. L. had sworn he would give me nothing, & like a good wife, I believed him. But he crept into my bed, with a little parcel, which was a beautiful green purse. And he brought up breakfast, with a paper which announced a naval victory (we have sunk a German battle ship) & a square brown parcel, with The Abbot in it—a lovely first edition— So I had a very merry & pleasing morning—which indeed was only surpassed by the afternoon. I was then taken up to town, free of charge, & given a treat, first at a Picture Palace, & then at Buszards. I don’t think I’ve had a birthday treat for 10 years; & it felt like one too—being a fine frosty day, everything brisk & cheerful, as it should be, but never is. The Picture Palace was a little disappointing—as we never got to the War pictures, after waiting 1 hour & a half. But to make up, we exactly caught a non-stop train, & I have been very happy reading father on Pope, which is very witty & bright—without a single dead sentence in it. In fact I dont know when I have enjoyed a birthday so much—not since I was a child anyhow. Sitting at tea we decided three things: in the first place to take Hogarth, if we can get it; in the second, to buy a Printing press; in the third to buy a Bull dog, probably called John. I am very much excited at the idea of all three—particularly the press. I was also given a packet of sweets to bring home (D1 28).
1918
Friday 25 January
My Birthday. L. slid a fine cow’s horn knife into my hand this morning. Nelly has knitted me a pair of red socks which tie round the ankle, & thus just suit my state in the morning. Another event kept me recumbent. Barbara came, & together we “dissed” 4 pages, & L. printed off the second 4 at the printers—altogether a fine days work. At this rate Katherine’s story will be done in 5 weeks. We rather think of doing a little book of woodcuts, either after this book or at the same time, on our small press. Our dinner tonight was a sacrifice to duty on a fine scale; never were we more ready for an evening alone; books to read; a sense of a great deal of talk already discharged this week; but rather before 7.30 came Clara [Woolf] & the Whithams, whom we had asked with a view to killing each other off without more waste than was inevitable. Whitham’s elaborately literary get up is a fair index of his mind. He is what the self-taught working man thinks genius should be; & yet so unassuming & homely that its more amusing than repulsive. His passion for writing is the passion of the amateur—or rather of the person who’s got it up from a text book. Seeing Cannan’s new novel he said “Ah, Cannan, yes—he’s very weak in construction isn’t he?” And so with all the rest. He told me his books had a way of “screaming”, & with great enthusiasm, after asking the fate of my fiction which is a point of honour in professional circles, he ran over all the novels he’s got ready or half ready, or only in want of “phrasing”—which process he applies at the end. He begins with a synopsis, which takes him 3 months: but I didn’t listen to the whole story. They withdraw soon to Devonshire, where directly the war ends (but even the war hasn’t prevented him from adding a new book to the list) he is going to work hard. Writing all the morning, reading & walking the rest of the day (D1 113).
1921
The Diary of Virginia Woolf: Volume II 1978 (ed. by Anne Olivier Bell with Andrew McNeillie) 1920-1924.
Tuesday 25 January
Here have I waited 25 days before beginning the new year; & the 25 is, not unfortunately my 25th, but my 39th birthday; & we’ve had tea, & calculated the costs of printing Tchekov; now L. is folding the sheets of his book, & Ralph has gone, & I having taken this out of the press proceed to steal a few minutes to baptise it. I must help L. & can’t think of a solemn beginning. I’m at a crisis in Jacob: want to finish in 20,000 words, written straight off in a frenzy. And I must pull myself together to bring it off. . . Spring has miraculously renewed herself. Pink almond blossoms are in bud. Callow birds crow. In short, he’s out of love & in love, & contemplated eloping with a Spaniard in a motor car. “But after all, I said to myself as I walked back, I like to think of my book & my armchair. It’s terrible, terrible. I can’t give up my old friends after all” (D2 86).
1930
The Diary of Virginia Woolf: Volume III1980 (ed. by Anne Olivier Bell with Andrew McNeillie) 1925-1930.
Sunday 26 January
I am 48: we have been at Rodmell—a wet, windy day again; but on my birthday we walked among the downs, like the folded wings of grey birds; & saw first one fox, very long with his brush stretched; then a second; which had been barking, for the sun was hot over us; it leapt lightly over a fence & entered the furze—a very rare sight. How many foxes are there in England? At night I read Lord Chaplin’s life. I cannot yet write naturally in my new room, because the table is not the right height, & I must stoop to warm my hands. Everything must be absolutely what I am used to (D3 285).
1931
Monday 26 January
Heaven be praised, I can truthfully say on this first day of being 49 that I have shaken off the obsession of Opening the Door, & have returned to Waves: & have this instant seen the entire book whole, & how I can finish it–say in under 3 weeks (D4 7).
1941
The Diary of Virginia Woolf: Volume V 1984 (ed. by Anne Olivier Bell with Andrew McNeillie) 1936-1941.
Sunday 26 January
A battle against depression, rejection (by Harper’s of my story & Ellen Terry) routed today (I hope) by clearing out kitchen; by sending the article (a lame one) to N.S.: & by breaking into PH 2 days, I think, of memoir writing.
This trough of despair shall not, I swear, engulf me. The solitude is great. Rodmell life is very small beer. The house is damp. The house is untidy. But there is no alternative. Also days will lengthen. What I need is the old spurt. “Your true life, like mine, is in ideas” Desmond said to me once. But one must remember one cant pump ideas. I begin to dislike introspection. Sleep & slackness; musing; reading; cooking; cycling; oh & a good hard rather rocky book–viz: Herbert Fisher. This is my prescription. We are going to Cambridge for two days. I find myself totting up my friends lives: Helen at Alciston without water; Adrian & Karin; Oliver at Bedford, & adding up rather a higher total of happiness. There’s a lull in the war. 6 nights without raids. But Garvin says the greatest struggle is about to come–say in 3 weeks–& every man, woman dog cat even weevil must girt their arms, their faith–& so on.
Its the cold hour, this, before the lights go up. A few snowdrops in the garden. Yes, I was thinking: we live without a future. Thats whats queer, with our noses pressed to a closed door. Now to write, with a new nib, to Enid Jones (D5 354-355).
