I recently dived into “The Personal Librarian,” a historical fiction novel co-authored by Marie Benedict and Victoria Christopher Murray. With an enormous buzz surrounding it and being a Good Morning America Book Club pick, I felt compelled to see what all the fuss was about. As someone who enjoys historical fiction, especially those that illuminate lesser-known figures, Belle da Costa Greene’s story immediately intrigued me. Belle, J.P. Morgan’s personal librarian, navigates a complex world of privilege and identity as she conceals her African American heritage to ensure her success in a predominantly white society.
The novel’s exploration of race, identity, and ambition captivated me. I appreciated how it highlighted the lengths Belle had to go to in order to protect her family’s legacy, including the clever ruse of claiming Portuguese heritage to pass as white. Belle’s journey from Belle Marion Greener to a prominent figure in New York society is a testament to her intellect and resilience, and the authors did a commendable job bringing her story to life.
Many readers, including Molly, found the story wonderfully enlightening, saying it was “a beautiful story” filled with deep thought about society. One of the book’s strengths lies in how it blends well-researched historical content with richly developed characters that feel genuinely relatable. I became engrossed in Belle’s life, particularly her relationships and the sacrifices she made, and found myself rooting for her as she pushed the boundaries of what a woman of color could achieve at that time.
However, some readers, like Donna A. Bennett, pointed out a few drawbacks—most notably, the romantic subplot involving Belle and Berenson. I, too, felt this relationship was somewhat underdeveloped and conflicted. While it reflects the complexity of Belle’s existence, it often felt overshadowed by the bigger themes of race and identity. There were moments when I found myself longing for a deeper exploration of how their relationship impacted Belle, both personally and professionally.
Another aspect that struck me was the pacing. At times, the narrative felt a bit slow, especially early on. While this allowed for significant character development, I found it took a while to truly pick up. However, once it did, it became an engrossing read, filled with dramatic twists and emotional highs. The writing style is mostly accessible and engaging, which made it easier to immerse myself in the intricacies of Belle’s world.
Once Belle’s life began to unfold—especially her work as a curator for Morgan’s library—the story truly captured my interest. The authors deftly portrayed the cultural milieu of early 20th-century America, diving deeply into the complexities of race relations and societal expectations. I relished learning about the art world through Belle’s eyes as she skillfully navigated the male-dominated field, earning her place among the elite.
The dual narrative effectively emphasizes Belle’s internal struggles alongside her professional accomplishments. This allowed me to reflect on the notion of identity and the sacrifices people make to fit into societal molds. For instance, Belle’s experience resonated with timeless questions about authenticity versus the societal pressures to conform. Zoey Roosevelt’s review aptly underscores this theme, emphasizing the emotional toll of Belle’s decisions while navigating her dual existence as a Black woman passing as white.
The historical richness of “The Personal Librarian” not only entertained me but enriched my understanding of a pivotal yet often overlooked figure in American history. The authors provide context about Belle’s family and the socio-political landscape of her time, which adds layers to her character and decisions. I found great value in this educational aspect and became eager to explore Jamaica’s Pierpont Morgan Library and Museum myself.
In conclusion, “The Personal Librarian” ultimately met my expectations as a compelling work of historical fiction. It balances intricate character development with rich historical detail in a way that feels timely and relevant, particularly against the backdrop of ongoing discussions about race and identity in current discourse. While there were minor pacing issues and a somewhat underwhelming romantic subplot, the book’s strengths outweigh its weaknesses. If you’re a fan of historical fiction that provokes thought and highlights marginalized voices, I wholeheartedly recommend this beautifully woven narrative. It’s not just a glimpse into Belle’s life; it’s a mirror reflecting the complexities of our societal fabric.