The Lighthouse is distant, old, and set against a landscape that fades to the farthest horizon, encompassing the length of visible space. This is a majestic image of a pillar of presiding stability and constant observation. It is a presence that extends beyond the physical and chronological boundaries of the Ramsays and their world, observing them and illuminating the rooms in which the contents of their minds are bared.
The Lighthouse offers a life force to Mrs. Ramsay and her family, propelling both the plot (the novel opens with the conflict surrounding James's desire to go to it) and the streams of consciousness that ensue. It has a clear and significant presence in this world, yet it is inanimate, not conscious, and it is a figure characterized by its distance from the immediate events of the novel. It seems somewhat elusive and intangible, having indistinct boundaries and features. The setting of the Lighthouse recedes into a realm "uninhabited by men" and therefore signifies a realm and life force that the characters cannot enter themselves. It is distant, intangible, and elusive.
Yet its qualities are permanent and everpresent. The Lighthouse is Mrs. Ramsay's source of stability and permanence, and it is the force that defines and joins the members of the Ramsay family. It is even present in their home during the ten years that the family is not there--presiding over the abandoned house.