She had disappeared for years. His books were getting rarer in bookstores. On the shelves, between Wolfe Tom and Zafon Ruiz Carlos, there was now a void. As if Virginia Woolf (1882-1941) had to pay for her modernist audacity. For her desire to put aside the classic novel, the classic narrative, for something more complex where everything is fragmented. A literature that allows him to enter more deeply into the minds and moods of his characters. A literature placing the flows of consciousness in the foreground. The other “modernists” of the XXe century, the Proust, Joyce, Faulkner experienced eclipses, but shorter, and Faulkner benefited from the aura of the Nobel Prize. Virginia Woolf did not receive it. How could the Swedish Academy, in 1938, prefer the insipid Pearl Buck to the author of Mrs dalloway, Towards the lighthouse, Orlando, Waves? Today she recognizes this error among others on her site.