Women of Note - M.J. Buckman, APR 2025 LTER
Talk Reviews of Early Reviewers Books
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1LyndaInOregon
Most readers will recognize, within the first 50 or so pages, that there’s an essential question here that’s not even being asked, and may devote at least half of their attention to wondering why not. Eventually (about halfway through the book), it *is* asked, and the answer – which doesn’t come for another hundred or so pages – is utterly devastating.
By that point, however, it’s obvious that the thrust of the book isn’t hitherto unknown letters from socially, politically, or historically notable women, but is rather about the personal journey of the main character, Helena French.
Helena is an unhappy, mousy woman in her mid-fifties, stuck in a menial clerical position in a London library, convinced that this is precisely the kind of life she deserves. When an act of kindness toward an eccentric older library patron opens up an exciting alternative, Helena moves cautiously, even reluctantly, toward it. Eventually she is swept up in the project of gathering these letters, collected by her friend’s late daughter, and dares to think she might be able to complete the task set before here – combining them into a book.
Helena’s journey is often two steps forward, three back, as she deals with a lifetime of being told she’s not good enough, not smart enough, not pretty enough to have value as a human being, and she often sees many of her own struggles reflected in the letters. Her passage toward self-realization forms the heart of the book, and the letters at some point become mostly mileposts.
The letters themselves are fascinating. Some voices will be familiar names to those interested in women’s history, others are more obscure, but all faced legal, religious, or social barriers in their attempts to guide their own destinies. Still, with the book weighing in at 400+ pages, it could use a good bit of judicial trimming, particularly when Buckman goes off on narrative tangents dealing with topics like racism and censorship – all worthwhile issues, but not necessarily pertinent to this particular story. One is tempted, along about page 300, to shout “for God’s sake, woman, leave something for your next book!”
The other major quibble is the Fairy Godmother Effect that brings everything to a happy-ever-after ending due to an unexpected inheritance.
As a novel, one struggles to rate this at more than three stars; however the extensive reading list providing source material for further reading on the historical characters kicks it up half a point. Just be ready to do some slogging to get there.
By that point, however, it’s obvious that the thrust of the book isn’t hitherto unknown letters from socially, politically, or historically notable women, but is rather about the personal journey of the main character, Helena French.
Helena is an unhappy, mousy woman in her mid-fifties, stuck in a menial clerical position in a London library, convinced that this is precisely the kind of life she deserves. When an act of kindness toward an eccentric older library patron opens up an exciting alternative, Helena moves cautiously, even reluctantly, toward it. Eventually she is swept up in the project of gathering these letters, collected by her friend’s late daughter, and dares to think she might be able to complete the task set before here – combining them into a book.
Helena’s journey is often two steps forward, three back, as she deals with a lifetime of being told she’s not good enough, not smart enough, not pretty enough to have value as a human being, and she often sees many of her own struggles reflected in the letters. Her passage toward self-realization forms the heart of the book, and the letters at some point become mostly mileposts.
The letters themselves are fascinating. Some voices will be familiar names to those interested in women’s history, others are more obscure, but all faced legal, religious, or social barriers in their attempts to guide their own destinies. Still, with the book weighing in at 400+ pages, it could use a good bit of judicial trimming, particularly when Buckman goes off on narrative tangents dealing with topics like racism and censorship – all worthwhile issues, but not necessarily pertinent to this particular story. One is tempted, along about page 300, to shout “for God’s sake, woman, leave something for your next book!”
The other major quibble is the Fairy Godmother Effect that brings everything to a happy-ever-after ending due to an unexpected inheritance.
As a novel, one struggles to rate this at more than three stars; however the extensive reading list providing source material for further reading on the historical characters kicks it up half a point. Just be ready to do some slogging to get there.
