"How I loathe that kind of novel which is about a lot of sisters"; so proclaims Deirdre, one of three sisters, at the beginning of The Brontës Went to Woolworths.
London, 1931: As growing up looms large in the lives of the Carne sisters, Deirdre, Katrine, and young Sheil still share an insatiable appetite for the fantastic. Eldest sister Deirdre is a journalist, Katrine a fledgling actress, and young Sheil is still with her governess; together they live a life unchecked by their mother in their bohemian town house. Irrepressibly imaginative, the sisters cannot resist making up stories as they have done since childhood; from their talking nursery toys, Ironface the Doll and Dion Saffyn the pierrot, to their fulsomely imagined friendship with real high-court Judge Toddington who, since Mrs. Carne did jury duty, they affectionately called Toddy.
However, when Deirdre meets Toddy's real-life wife at a charity bazaar, the sisters are forced to confront the subject of their imaginings. Will the sisters cast off the fantasies of childhood forever? Will Toddy and his wife, Lady Mildred, accept these charmingly eccentric girls? And when fancy and reality collide, who can tell whether Ironface can really talk, whether Judge Toddington truly wears lavender silk pyjamas, or whether the Brontës did, indeed, go to Woolworths?
The Brontës Went to Woolworths is part of The Bloomsbury Group, a new library of books from the early 20th-century.
We've sent an email with your order details. Order ID #:
To access this title, visit your library in the app or on the desktop website.
Not suited for audio format
- John S.
This is one of my all time favorite books. It's odd, funny, Sui Generis. I've read it over and over and was delighted to find an. Audio version, but disappointed by the reader's accent and choices. This is SUCH an English book; to hear it read in an American voice was like finding a poor translation from a foreign language. And so much of it is witty dialogue, which often didn't come across well here. I'd urge this book on anyone but read it rather than listen to this.
Good God no
- N. K. Shapiro