Skip to main content

Review 16: The Women Who Built Bristol 1184-2018 by Jane Duffus

The Women Who Built Bristol 1184-2018
The Women Who Built Bristol is an exciting compendium of women who have pushed boundaries, and pioneered social and scientific breakthroughs.

The rules of the book are that every woman included must have been born, lived or died in Bristol. This is a neat way of ensuring that you get a good overview of people who have affected the city’s makeup – after all, there are plenty of women included who were born abroad (such as AndrĂ©e Peel, the French Resistance fighter who moved to Bristol after the war), who nonetheless have helped to define Bristol’s character.

Other pioneers from the panoply include: Janet Vaughan, a haemotologist who revolutionised our understanding of anaemia and how to treat it; Fleur Lombard, a firefighter who died heroically fighting a supermarket fire – the first female firefighter to die on duty in the UK; Annie Kenney, a working-class suffragette who became one of the Pankhursts’ right-hand women and took over the Women’s Social and Political Union (WSPU) after years of Bristol-based activism.

Inherently, when you read across a mass of different lives like this, a few themes stick out. One is the difference that wealth makes to helping women push against oppressive boundaries – it becomes fairly striking across the course of the book, and highlights the need for those people who are born into greater privilege to fight as allies for the rights of those who are not.

Another is the fact that so many of these women came from Quaker backgrounds. Quakerism holds the tenet that women and men are spiritually equal, although in practise this tends to get lost under male structures. It seems all it takes is a small crack in the wall of patriarchy for women to use their skills, tenacity and self-belief to push for a more equal world.

While there are working-class stories in the book, the greater presence of middle and upper classes made it a relief to see a set of entries at the back specifically devoted to the lives of working women in a number of Bristol’s factories. This helps to give the book balance, and also reminds us: women have always worked.

The book is put together, largely written and edited by Jane Duffus (who has also contributed articles to the Heroine Collective), but there are a number of different other contributors joining the fray to write about women in their specialist areas. This is a great decision, because it lends the book a number of perspectives and voices, which keeps it vivid. My personal favourites were the contributions from Dr. Suzi Gage, with detailed entries on female doctors breaking their way into the profession, and Amy Mason, a comedian who writes about producers and hoaxers with mischievous joy. Their passion for their subjects really sparkles.

It does feel like suffrage and unionism in the 1800s and 1900s make up the bulk of the book. Of course, many such individual pioneering women are still under-documented, and their inclusion is fascinating, important and vital. I suspect that the very fact that women tend to be written out of history makes it difficult to add balance from earlier times, especially given the book’s geographical parameters, but given that the title references 1184-2018, it would have been nice to get even more insight into the breakthroughs made by women from the 12th century to the 18th.

An interesting aspect you encounter early on is that the women are presented warts and all. This occasionally creates some uncomfortable reading, but at the same time, we need to be able to laud positive contributions to the world as well as denounce negative ones. That said, there were a couple of entries that I felt didn’t quite get this balance right – where, for me personally, the negatives outweighed the positives.

For the purposes of this review, I read the book cover-to-cover, but I don’t think that is necessarily the best way to do it. Really this should serve as a resource to drop into, pick out someone in a field you want to be inspired by or to learn about. An index of professions by page number is missing, but it’s still possible to consume the stories in this way.

Overall, this is a thought-provoking, inspiring and fierce book, giving much-deserved prominence to a lot of courageous women, many of whom would otherwise have lacked it. It’s a considerable undertaking to pull together such a book too, which makes it all the more commendable. This is definitely a book to buy and to keep going back to over the years.

Please do buy this book direct from Bristol Women’s Voice, as that way all the proceeds go to help fund their important work.

--

This is my sixteenth book review of 100 to raise money for Refuge, the domestic abuse charity. If you liked this review, or just want to help out, please donate on the link below!

JustGiving - Sponsor me now!

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Review 19: Eleanor Oliphant Is Completely Fine by Gail Honeyman

I imagine a lot of unimaginative reviews of this book say something like, Eleanor Oliphant is not Completely Fine, contrary to the title! and then they laugh at their own tiny joke for four hours. You won’t find that here, even though it is both true and apposite. Instead you’ll see me saying: this is a really great book. Even forgetting the inspired name of the protagonist, which never stops sounding like the name of an elegant elephant, it’s really good. Eleanor Oliphant lives alone and has forged an existence for herself of work, trips to the local Tesco Metro, and gentle, vodka-infused oblivion on the weekends. She doesn’t deal well with people. In fact, Oliphant displays an almost total lack of empathy. At first, you suspect that she may be autistic, since she shows all the signs: difficulty relating to others, low tolerance for leaving her routines, having to learn the outward signs of emotions by rote and experience, rather than innately understanding the differe

Review 7: Homegoing by Yaa Gyasi

The first thing you see when you open Yaa Gyasi’s Homegoing is six pages of quotes from reviews saying how good it is. If you’re like me (and with any luck you’re not), you’ll think: talk about putting yourself under pressure . Happily, Gyasi more than rises to the implicit challenge set by her voluminous praise. The scope of her book - following two branches of an African family tree as they become separated by time and distance – is beautifully realised, with each chapter representing another generational step down. Homegoing is, in its clearest sense, about the reverberating impact of slavery on black people, both in the lands they were ripped from and the lands they were taken to. But the core theme that ties the book together is connection between those two strands of people. The title could be considered a reference to ‘returning’ to Africa, but I think it’s more powerful when considered as more abstract – the re-binding of the strands of people who have been separa

Review 1: Stasiland: Stories from Behind the Berlin Wall, by Anna Funder

My rating: 5 of 5 stars I am hungover and steer myself like a car through the crowds at Alexanderplatz station. How could you not love a book that begins like that? Early on in Stasiland , Anna Funder discusses the ‘puzzle women of Nuremberg’. This is a group of underfunded people (both men and women, oddly) who spend their days piecing together the scraps of documents the Stasi hurriedly shredded at the end of their regime. It feels like an apt analogy for Funder’s book itself – she carefully and brilliantly pieces together a view of what it was like to live in East Germany, and the effect it’s had on its citizens decades after the Berlin Wall was wrenched down, from snapshot interviews, research and her own experiences… despite the fact that most people she encounters would rather sweep it under the rug and pretend it never happened. I came to this book knowing that East Germany was run as a Communist surveillance state, but little else. That was no problem.