Listen, it's Virginia Woolf. It's good and this is groundbreaking work in its narrative use of gender fluidity. Orlando is an amazing character, even if they* are also an absolute aristocratic snob (I mean, so was Woolf.)

...it's also the book of hers I enjoyed the least. It turns out, my favorite thing about Woolf is her ability to shift perspective within the stream-of-consciousness style she pioneered. The interiority is still here but without that other element, this text felt more linear and rigid than Mrs. Dalloway or To The Lighthouse (my personal favorite.) I missed the writer's ability to embody so many people (and occasionally buildings) within a narrative. 

*The character shifts from masculine to feminine pronouns in the text, I'm using the singular they here for expediency's sake.

A lot of decent passages though very weak on plot, plus a fair bit of racism