I had high expectations for this book which led to disappointment. Dean’s intent is to tell the story of 20th century NYC intellectual life through the lens of all the important ladies, with connections between them all that she claimed had never been explored before. Each chapter attempts to daisy-chain into the next, a sort of handshake between the women, from Dorothy Parker to Rebecca West (with tiny digression to Zora Neale Hurston) to Hannah Arendt to Mary McCarthy to Susan Sontag to Pauline Kael to Joan Didion to Nora Ephron to Renata Adler to Janet Malcolm. At some point it devolves into a gossipy tone and drones on about the various in-fighting, squabbling at other authors via print, pointed letters, etc. (One good bit of gossip was in McCarthy’s letter to Arendt about Saul Bellow requiring his London audience to remain seated for 10 minutes after he finished so no one would ask for his autograph.)
I began this book with an appreciation for a handful of the women (Sontag, Adler, Parker, and Ephron) and generally enjoyed their chapters. A better book would have been able to engage me with the rest, to tease me into wanting to give their works another try (my god I’ve attempted Rebecca West at least 8 times now).