A novel set in post-war London? A novel about three strong women? A novel with a bookshop becoming a character in itself? A novel where fictional characters meet non-fictional legends? Bloomsbury Girls is all of this and a lot more!

A book set in post-war London that touches on a number of topics, racism, sexism, domestic abuse and homosexuality. The essence of the book is about female friendship and women finding their way in a male-dominant world. It ultimately leads to the characters fulfilling their dreams despite it being against the odds of the post-war era.

This book was well written with well developed charcaters that were relatable and believeable, who I ended up loving and a riveting storyline. I was expecting this to be more of a historical novel than it was but overall I enjoyed it.

Jenner – I am happy to report! – has delivered once more! Everything – and more – that the Ideal Reader of The Jane Austen Society found positively compelling about Jenner’s writing returns, with renewed vigour, in Bloomsbury Girls. And yet do not go thinking that this is merely a reworking of that brilliant debut – far, far from it. As far from it as it is to suppose that this would be a sequel of sorts, which is not the case – though I would venture to say that it is indeed exceptionally exciting to have our dear Evie Stone, the precocious scholar and cataloguing extraordinaire, not only back, but also occupying more centre stage in this novel!

STORYLINE:

It is 1949, in Lamb’s Conduit Street, London. Under the prevalently male and conservative management of Herbert Dutton, backed up by Alec McDonough (Head of Fiction), the Bloomsbury Bookshop is stuck-in-the-past, in more ways than one: the much hoped for post-war economical resurgence is not doing much for the bookshop to be able to stay afloat, and they themselves seem not to even ponder the idea of moving away from their traditional precepts, hardly ever heeding the women’s – Vivien Lowry’s in particular – solicitous attempts to introduce some of the emerging contemporary female writers to their shelves, or organise events that would also allow the female public to engage. No: at Bloomsbury Books it is all about the fifty-one rules established by Mr Dutton. And yet strictures and rules, as Evie Stone will have to learn the hard way, are not necessarily without contradiction, and can in fact cause more damage than one would expect…

Evie herself ends up working in the Rare Books section seemingly because – as a woman who works hard, is still fairly naïve about the ways of the world, and unwilling to compromise her values – is duped by her Cambridge studying colleague Stuart Wesley, and highly undervalued by the Vice-Master, Christenson. She is thus unable to stay on as Research assistant, but an extraordinary discovery awaits her at Bloomsbury Books: a book, acquired by Mr Allen (from the Rare Books department) at the Chawton House auction organised by Yardley Sinclair in The Jane Austen Society – a book, that will change everything.

COMMENTS:

The driving force of the novel, I would say, would be a motto of sorts: it is only when strong, independent-minded females unite that the combined force of their energy and determination makes remarkable things happen.

Clearly, at the time, it was very much going against the grain for a female to even consider the idea of asserting herself and standing up for what she believes in. Indeed, all female characters at Bloomsbury – Evie, Vivien, and Grace – suffer from unfulfilled potential. They are (quietly) bold – with Vivien being the more overtly so, having endured a terrible loss that accentuates her outwardly hardcore façade – and immeasurably capable in their own distinct ways. And yet they hit walls at every turn, stifled as they are by the oppressive world they are made to live in.

This is their story. The story of struggling minorities – those relegated to minority roles. Not only females and female artists, but also immigrants like Ash Ramaswamy, who has to live with being discriminated against on a daily basis, and is not – for this reason – taken seriously or allowed to become and do what he has worked for so indefatigably. And, moreover, homosexuals like Dutton and Allen, who are forced to confine their companionship within the privacy of their home.

It must be said that the ‘historical’ in this fiction is not very substantial: avid readers of historical fiction might in fact do well not to go into this expecting too much of that. Jenner takes on a very minimalist approach in this sense. Apart from the history of the bookshop itself, the socio-political contexts of the years following World War II are more often than not traced through the conditionings that the characters themselves are subjected to. The historical, in many respects, is at the service of the feminist, literary contexts that frame the narrative. Many a thrilling moment awaits lovers of literature, between literary luncheons and the skilful insertion of characters like Daphne du Maurier, Sonia Blair (wife of George Orwell), and Samuel Beckett – all of whom are actually invested in the unfolding of events! ❤️

The characters are not few, and yet they are drawn solidly enough. I do feel that Jenner endeavours to develop characters that stand in their own right – and it is actually quite impressive that she does manage to do so, while also flitting from one perspective to another, and not jeopardising the cohesion of the narrative itself. It is obviously no wonder that the reader should be affectionately attached to the prodigious Evie Stone, but Jenner will not leave any character behind: she gives us enough substance to be able to relate to or capture what it is that makes each character distinctly human. In Jenner, even the more elite – think Lord Baskin, the owner of Bloomsbury Books – are presented very humanly.

On a structural level, I was quite taken by the fact that every chapter started off with references to one of Dutton’s rules, by way – it seems – of subtly revealing their limitedness, and thereby slowly and assiduously fracturing their seemingly impenetrable surface. This tallies quite strikingly with the movement of the narration, I feel.

The Austen-Jenner style ending is thankfully not overdone or longwinded, thankfully. There is some build up to the tying up of loose ends that happens here, but it is made to blend with the overarching sentiment of the narration: not quite sentimental, but, rather, more attuned to a natural and humble coming together of people who find themselves – unlikely though it might seem, given their differences – connecting on a deeper level.

Jenner certainly has a faithful reader in me. The way she does bookishness and literary history is far more sophisticated than your average book-lover read. Which puts her Up There for those who – like me – do thoroughly enjoy a light yet intense, pleasurable, and unputdownable read from time to time.

4.25 stars.

Thanks go to Net Galley and publisher for giving me this lovely opportunity to read and review this book. All thoughts expressed here are my own.