The figure of Virginia Woolf, far from being forgotten or blurred, as grown with the pass of time. This, without doubt is due to two reasons. On one side, her variety, fertility, and richness. Woolf was not only an exquisite modernist, creator of beauty in her novels and tales, but also a thinker, whose reflexions about art -the relation between creation and the material conditions, the limits of representation, the women as an object and subject of literature...- are a still valid. At the same time, and this would be the other reason for her timeliness, Woolf is a very powerful icon (for her fame and prestige), but also somewhat ambiguous. Elitist writer or popular author? Defender of tradition or vanguardist? An artist trapped in her ivory tower or a committed intellectual? Chaste victorian wife or homosexual?... None of these questions have a clear answer, which has allowed the most varied groups to endorse Woolf. And this is how the exquisite modernist garden where refined works like To the Lighthouse, Orlando or The Waves bloom, also holds a fertile orchard with robust texts like Mr. Bennett and Mrs. Brown, A Room of One's Own, Three Guineas..., and at the same time, a battlefield in which many different accounts are confronted.