(10/25/2022)
"The Personal Librarian" by Marie Benedict and Victoria Christopher Murray continues the tradition of "Gentleman's Agreement," "Focus," or the underrated "The Human Stain," in which a character hides their ethnicity in a discriminatory environment. For anyone tired of race as a topic, we have an educated bibliophile who certainly wishes that people would focus on her skill, not her complexion.
Belle, our hero, has her character development based on two key features: she has keen negotiating skills and an eye for quality in literature and art. But would her boss, the wealthy (and authentic) J.P. Morgan, still acknowledge her prowess if he knew of her true ancestry? Conversely, can we blame her Black relatives for turning their collective backs on her family since the group has chosen to live as white folks?
The most challenging part of reading lies in accepting the new universe's rules into which the author tries to engross me. Of course, people like J.P. Morgan do not qualify as relatable with infinite money and resources, but Belle's struggle with her racial identity packs a punch. As she infiltrates high society, the element of intrigue always exists under the surface about whether the dignitaries know her secret or, in 1919, how much it would matter.
As historical fiction, the book describes a specific time post-Reconstruction and pre-Suffrage. Belle more than holds her own in her discussions and negotiations with wealthier and more powerful men, but she cannot escape the fears in the back of her mind. The inevitable happens when a subplot of romance appears; nonetheless, I was captivated enough with the story not to see it coming. I cared enough about the characters to feel sorry for them.
When you reach the end and figure out the author's message, you will want to know more about our heroine. How did she achieve deception for so long, and, more importantly, why was it necessary in 1910? As the story progresses and the "big reveals" do not happen or occur differently than you anticipated, you recognize this as a singular work by one of Upper St. Clair's most excellent alumnae, Marie Benedict.
(Note: I usually enjoy stories that create fiction from the kernels of truth in history. The story in the Author's Notes of how both writers united to make this happen is inspiring and not to be missed.)