BLOOMSBURY GIRLS

In post–World War II London, three women battle misogyny at a stodgy bookshop.

In Jenner’s follow-up to The Jane Austen Society (2020), former housemaid Evie Stone, age 17, has completed her studies at Cambridge, but, despite her genius for scholarship, the upper-class Cambridge boys club will not grant her the academic career she craves. Through her Austen Society contacts, she wangles a job at Bloomsbury Books, where men hold sway and a set of arcane rules keeps the female clerks toiling in the lower echelons of bookselling. From here, as in the earlier book, the lives of several characters intertwine. Vivien, of the fiction department, is a talented writer whose ambitions have been thwarted. Alec, her boss and spurned lover, is a less talented writer, which the near-omniscient narration makes clear in one of many pointed character assessments. Grace, a secretary, yearns to escape her controlling husband but fears losing custody of her sons. Ash, of the science section, comes to realize that as an Indian immigrant he cannot overcome British bigotry, however powerful the pull of his and Evie’s mutual attraction and matching meticulous personalities. The shop’s hierarchy includes Herbert Dutton, the general manager, who clings to power despite failing health, and Lord Baskin, the benevolent landlord. Except where Evie is concerned, class conflict is not a factor here. In fact, the dramatic tension suffers as conflicts are too easily resolved by lucky breaks, not to mention wealthy mentors. The timing of key developments often owes more to plot convenience than to convincing causality. The 1950 setting does allow for entertaining literary intrigues, including store events featuring Daphne du Maurier and Samuel Beckett, which spark kerfuffles and exacerbate the gender wars that are the overriding preoccupation of this novel. Much of the plot revolves around overlooked women writers, notably Jane Webb, author of a prescient but forgotten 1827 novel called The Mummy! However, readers can be comfortable, perhaps too comfortable, in the expectation that the women will prevail.

A rose-tinted view of early 1950s literary feminism.