Book Review: Bloomsbury Girls by Natalie Jenner

Evie Stone moved from the role of servant girl at the Chawton Great House to Cambridge. She expected more when her term at Cambridge was completed. However, it was not to be. 

In February of last year, The Jane Austen Society, the first book by Natalie Jenner, was our book club’s choice for that month. This is where ‘quiet and unassuming’ Evie Stone is introduced. It is not necessary to read The Jane Austen Society to enjoy Bloomsbury Girls. The author makes reference throughout as some of the same characters show up in Bloomsbury Girls; characters that helped Evie move forward in her life.

Natalie Jenner has brought Evie Stone to us in this second novel, Bloomsbury Girls. Evie’s quiet and determined care for all books, but especially rare books, brought her to the Bloomsbury Books, a book shop with a centuries old pedigree in post-war London. Herbert Dutton, the general manager, established a strict list of fifty one workplace rules and expects them followed without question. The employees are two women, Vivien and Grace; and four men, Frank Allen, Alec McDonough, Master Mariner Simon Scott and Ashwin Ramaswamy. 

Vivien, manages the floor while Grace is Mr. Dutton’s very dutiful secretary. They are also expected to make tea four times in the work day. Both women are concerned and annoyed by the lack of women authors in the shop. Evie shares their concern. Each of the men has their own areas of work. Bloomsbury Books is very slowly losing its grip as a notable book seller as Mr. Dutton does not wish to upgrade or change. The balance of power in the shop changes the day that Mr. Dutton is taken ill and must be off for a time at the advise of his doctor. When Evie gets hired, the female to male ratio improves. The potential sale of the bookshop to Herbert and Frank becomes the twist in the story. High society, an American benefactor and the founders of The Jane Austen Society are involved. 

Natalie Jenner gives us ordinary women and men at a time of great societal imbalance. The women, especially, struggle to gain a more solid footing at Bloomsbury Books. An enjoyable and easy read.

“Rule No. 31

Staff shall treat each other with pleasantness at all times.”

~ Bloomsbury Girls

Title: The Bloomsbury Girls 

Author: Natalie Jenner

Copyright: 2022

Publisher: St. Martin’s Press, an imprint of St. Martin’s Publishing Group

Type: Novel

Format: Soft Cover

ISBN - 9781250283221 (Canada & international (sold outside the U.S.))

ISBN - 9781250276704 (ebook)

Lifted

 

Ever alive ~

from horse tail wisps

to expansive bubbling quilts

Powerful mists ~

from grand beauty 

to threatening heaviness

Lifting and shifting ~

embroidery for azure heights

or moisture laden blankets shot through with gold

Forever passing ~

like each day’s circumstance

always lifted when the time is right.

“None of us know what we’re capable of, 

if the circumstances were right. Or wrong.”

~ Catherine Ryan Howard, 56 Days

Wind Blown

September, 2021

Caught

in steady

prairie winds

Trees ~

wind blown

bend to its power.

“An unbending tree is easily broken.”

~ Lao Tzu

To Say No.

No.

A tiny word

Whispered

Barely a glimmer of its better self.

Uttered aloud

Better ~ the glimmer becomes a glow

Spoken with conviction

The glow is powerful.

NO.

A tiny word.

“Real freedom is saying ‘no’ without giving a reason.”

~ Amit Kalantri, Wealth of Words

I Can’t

I can’t be someone I am not.

I have tried.

Can’t get past ‘I am who I am’.

I can’t be rich and famous ~

haven’t really tried that.

But then I’ve never wanted to be famous.

I can’t be the world’s most powerful woman ~ and

I've never wanted the responsibility

I am in awe of those in powerful positions.

I can’t have everything I want ~

thoughts that drift through time to time.

I do have some things I want and everything I need.

“We are our choices.”

~ Jean-Paul Sartre

Viral

Harbours, full of friends, families and people we’ll never meet, wait with baited breath for rescue or reprieve. The powers that be are challenged to do the right things, globally, for each individual, their country and diplomatic relationships. Territorial, political, waters are seldom calm at the best of times. While this threat to humanity spills over borders, secured or unsecured, we are all left with many questions and few answers. Belief in individual abilities to care for ourselves has its own strength to clean up our tiny corners of this embattled globe. That in itself can go viral.

“Nothing is impossible; the word itself says ‘I’m possible.’ ”

~ Audrey Hepburn

The Door - A Writing Exercise

Acting from within my muse and the parameters set by our writers group, I wrote a very short story. For this month’s assigned writing exercise, we were to write from the stem: I sat in eager anticipation and the door opened….. As always with our small group, we each had a different interpretation of the assignment ~ which we could change or not do it at all. This talented group of writers shared from the very poignant to fantastical to mysterious and to hilarious. Each story elicited appropriate emotions ~ much laughter and some respectful sadness. Here is my offering of The Door with a couple of edits I didn’t see until this morning.

 The Door

I sat in eager anticipation and the door opened. I felt powerful. I felt in control. The silver gray door tinkled. I knew that opening it would usher in my guests. I knew who each of them were because I had invited them. My senses had told me they would arrive, each in their appointed time. My purpose? To only choose those who would bring joy to my life. Beyond that door, and from streams, fields and farms, were the fascinating ingredients bringing to me the wisdom of each generation. I could only choose one individual from each place. A farmer and a rancher, tanned from the sun, field dirt in the creases of their perspiring brows. A seasonal odd jobber and an assembly line worker who worked tirelessly and tediously. A chef and a sous-chef fresh from steamy kitchens. All had been invited to my table. And I, here in my rocking chair, held the power of this grand gathering in my hand. To be ushered into my home and sit at my table was an honour only reserved for those who could get past my silver gray, and very stout, door. 

The Door swung open on my command. There, on shelves clean, shiny and new, were vegetables from not too distant fields, meats from the ranch beyond town, ripe fruits fresh picked in vast stretches of orchards. My weekend was set - to build a beautiful meal from all this abundance. To make soup and store leftovers when the fine meal was finished. Quality unmatched by this food's very freshness, I was pleased that my anticipation would be rewarded while I prepared this enchanting bounty.

“The isolated imagination is easily corrupted by theory, 

but the writer inside his community seldom has such a problem.”

~ Flannery O’Connor, Mystery and Manners: Occasional Prose

Timing ~ 4

Using a timer is the next part of my Daily Planning Guidelines. In my blog it is the fifth on that list. On the side of my fridge it is the fourth on that list. Guess I’d best tidy up my refrigerator list! Regardless, using a timer has been a very valuable tool in my entire learning about a writing practice. We have so many beeps, tones and alert sounds foisted upon our ears whether we’re inside or outside, I hesitated when this strategy was suggested to me several years ago. The longer I struggled against the Power of Procrastination the closer I came to resigning myself to one more sound assailing my ears.

My often used analogy with cooking allowed me to see the value of a timer. If I’m baking anything, the recipe always comes with a timed completion. Here is the neat little timer shaped like a garlic head I’ve used for years. Sadly, after those years of faithful timing, my poor little garlic head is not as reliable as it once was. It has created some near misses and some blackened and crispy products from my oven. So now, I just use my cell phone timer for all my daily timing needs. 

How does timing my work within a Daily Plan help? It provides a beginning and an end for me to work within. Editing is not exactly the most inspiring of activities. Revising is also not terribly wonderful, especially if I have attached my heart to certain sentences or words. The timer often ends one of those struggles, reminding me it’s time to get up and restore the circulation in my legs. Shift my brain into a different gear, whether it’s a bit of gardening or taking a walk around the block, taking deep breaths as I go. There is always a point that the timer is silenced. My body clock tells me when I’ve done enough work. I can take the bread out of the oven to let it cool, just as I can stack up any of my written work and let my thoughts settle until the next day.

“The Sun will rise and set regardless. What we choose to do 

with the light while it’s here is up to us. Journey wisely.”

~ Alexandra Elle

Don’t forget!  March is Epilepsy month with Purple Day for Epilepsy on March 26 each year.

Keeping It Simple

To describe that moment when one is neither awake nor asleep is a wee bit difficult. Like clearly defining the space between one tick of the clock and the next. I felt that space this morning. At 3:30 am. And tried to ignore it. Shifting my pillows, pulling blankets up over my eyes so even the faintest morning light would be blotted out, hoping my mattress would somehow sooth me back to sleep - none of it effective. It was a push pull situation that required a simple solution when all other solutions failed. Turn the light on, get out of bed and read - napping can come later. Simple solutions always put right any power struggle.

“Make the best use of what is in your power, 

and take the rest as it happens.”

~ Epictetus

My Name is Gidget

There was a wedding yesterday, but not until the evening. So, what to do. I was tempted to sit in my room and read all day. That option was rejected for getting up and                                              getting going to breakfast with family that were gathered. So much visiting! I was invited to go along with two families of nieces and nephews to a tour of The Tunnels of Moose Jaw. Beneath Moose Jaw, Saskatchewan is a honey comb of tunnels that were built around 1908. There are two specific areas of interest that have been developed by the city of Moose Jaw - Chinese immigration history and the fascinating rumours about Al Capone and rum running in the prohibition years. Much of the tour is accurate history especially for the Chinese who did much of the heavy lifting for our country. For Al Capone’s story, the actual facts are as sketchy as any self-respecting gangster would have it.

The tunnels we traveled through are the original tunnels, narrow, poorly lit and spare. The history of the Chinese immigration paints a very, very shameful picture of Canada’s past. Although individuals from many races coming into Canada have been discriminated against, the Chinese were discriminated against the longest. Our little band of 22 tourists were the designated ’coolies’ or Chinese labourers. We were introduced to our deplorable living quarters by a dreadful woman who gave us a mere taste of what their lives were like in the depths of these tunnels. The hopes and dreams of young men coming to Canada were forced into the dark to become scarred emotionally and physically, while they had to pay a head tax of $500.00, pay their ‘coolie broker’ the required rate, send money home to their families all on a wage of $0.35 an hour. There was definitely no kindness to the abuses that these strong men endured.

In the Al Capone tour, our numbers were only 15 and we were entertained with the fragile facts of this story. Characters played specific parts and brought members of the tour into the story. I was one of the first. The name given to me was Gidget (my young nephews will always know me by that name). I really didn’t do anything but seemed to be a place holder in the story. We were toured through the sumptuous tunnel rooms of Al Capone and his rumoured rum running business. Hidden doors, secrecy and sounds of gunfire accompanied us. This tour was quite amusing and yet, it also showed us a world where there was little kindness in this struggle for power and money.

Both tours ended at the gift shop where requisite souvenirs were purchased. When all was said and done, we went for gelato and fudge!

“Broad, wholesome, charitable views of men and things cannot be acquired 

by vegetating in one little corner of the earth all of one’s lifetime.”

~ Mark Twain

Breath Work

Breathe in……..Breathe out

daily ease of in and out

slow and steady on the pillow

from the first crying gasp into light and cold 

even though nestling at mother’s breast to suckle

with thoughtless instinct in the abundance all around

with reflex that keeps us all alive that pulls oxygen deep, deep into the belly and core

space opened for new clean air to fill our bodies

Breathe in…..Breathe out….

feel the power of our own body 

to pull life and energy within

a gentle force in the space around you.

cleansing breaths to shine your light

to accept universal energy and pull it back in for

inspiration of the world around us and

expiration of the world within us 

until there is only a gentle continuum.

Breathe in…. breathe out….

pull in calmness and joy, gratitude and peace

push away anxiety and fear, worry and anger

to feel your self, to know your self, to be grateful for your self.

our breath is who we are, what we believe and how we perceive our world

our breath is our life, and is our joy

is each day that opens and each day that comes to a close

like the sun coming up and the sun going down

like the moon rising high and the moon slipping from the skies

Breathe in…..breathe out……

“Remember to breathe. It is after all, the secret of life.”

~ Gregory Maguire, A Lion Among Men

Protection

brick by brick

each placed with care

steady and determined

the wall rose higher and stronger

stepping away

moving away

shows no disrespect to the brick layer

who has faith in the power of words.

“Recognizing power in another does not diminish your own.”

~ Joss Whedon

The Power Outside

The Power Outside

The rain slashed across windows and through trees. I left my office, away from the disturbing change in the weather. My umbrella, and my raincoat, were in the car. On the far side of the parking lot. Checking my watch on the way to my boss's office, it was only 4:30 pm. I still had a half hour before stepping out into the sideways storm. Buried in my thoughts about getting the minutes done, the agenda set up for the next meeting and all the discussion about policies, procedures and all things bureaucartic, I didn’t check outside again. I would just get wet when it was home time - not a cheery thought to end my day. Back at my desk, tying up the day’s loose ends, my pencil slipped out of my hand. Bending to pick it up, I realized the room had brightened. Shadows played across the floor where shadows had been rained out 15 minutes before. Swiveling my chair around in surprise, the sun was streaming through a wide hole into the still swirling clouds and through my office window.  ‘Damn! There is no balance to this weather! Or the balance point is so fine that if my thoughts are buried too deep I miss this amazing power.

“Embrace the weather, child, and 

you’ll understand the balance of the world.”

~ Dean Koontz, Brother Odd

Lost in Thought

Lost in Thought

Lost in thought, I was sitting, on this first day of spring, at the feet of the cenotaph on the grounds of the parliament buildings. In the warm sun, with daffoldils blooming I was thinking of my grandfather. My grandfather insisted on braving any weather, just as he had every November even after his stroke, to get to the cenotaph. Saluting smartly, the weight of the years would fall away. He did not see the brass and granite, nor hear the call of the winter birds. He saw himself standing at the ready, knee deep in mud. The weight he carried on that long ago day was a rain drenched woollen coat, heavy rifle and ammunition. That sky was gray painted with bright orange bursts of machine gun fire. With each final 21 gun salute he came back to where he stood and he was once more aging flesh and blood. The weight of his many years settled on him once more even as he felt the soldiers battle dress that he thought had gone. Grandfather told me all these things and more.

Then he told me that the battle had new weapons and new ammunition now. Weapons and ammunition foreign to the old soldier. Grandfather didn’t understand them and really didn’t want to. What he knew was that the fight was the same, no matter the ammunition, no matter the weapons. It was always about territory and power. Who holds the gold. Always with the belief that who holds that gold makes the rules. Whether new rules are ethical or moral no one ever knew til after battle was done. Then he would shake his grizzled head slowly and sadly.

On those days, the old soldier sat back down in his wheelchair. In that wheelchair, no matter how comfortable and safe, he was in the hands of the person that pushed it. He was at the mercy of his caretakers, nurses and doctors. Much of his personal power was taken from him by infirmity. Most of the time he was willing to accept this balance of power. Fortunately, his family and his caregivers were all pretty good folks and he appreciated their respect and care. 

My grandfathers life and service would be forgotten by many, but not by this proud grandson.

“Nearly all men can stand adversity, but if you 

want to test a man’s character, give him power.”

~ Abraham Lincoln

Choosing our Resources

Natural resources are deep within each of us
deep within the earth we share
Extracting them
Digging them out
Letting them rise to the surface
Floating them out
Breathing them in
Separating and sorting them
Choices for which to excavate
Based on
Prestige
Money
Power
Creativity
Or all of the above ~
Whether our planet or our hearts
The principles are the same

“We’re in a giant car heading towards a brick wall 

and everyone’s arguing over where they’re going to sit.”

~ David Suzuki

Taking A Leap

Responsible forward actions
Actions propelling us forward ~
The Power of Determination creates the energy to keep on walking.

Responsible forward actions are …..
This is far too serious.
Too thoughtful!
How can one be responsible in these shady gray days?
What’s the point?
grayness sends responsibility right off the planet ~
and denial is quite good at blocking the sunshine!

Responsible forward actions should be 
thoughtful, 
well chosen 
After all, we all like a good sleep at night.

Responsible forward actions are
moral and ethical choices!
How boring.
I’ll just leave those two alone.

“Each of us has an undeniable responsiblity 

to ourself and the rest of the world 

to be our personal best on any given day.”

~ Laurie Buchanan, Phd.

Author's note: Edited January 27, 2024

Self-Talk

Self-talk has power ~
Left inside the mind
to spin, bounce and echo
words, ideas, questions run amok,
tangled and confused

Spoken out loud
  ~ in the privacy of home ~ 
Such words resound and ring true.
When heard as a message or a question
possibilities bubble up in surprising clarity

Written and journaled
 ~ grammar and spelling unimportant ~ 
Words flow across the page
Questions, ideas seen for what they could be
Feelings scribbled across the page shift and settle.

“Your self-talk creates your reality.”

~ Abhishek Kumar, Stardust Family - We Are One