“The Book Club for Troublesome Women,” by Marie Bostwick, is a beautiful novel about the universal experiences and challenges that come with womanhood. Told through the guise of female friendship, Bostwick shows how stories and community are the first step to meaningful change.
Set in the 1960s in a suburb in Virginia, the story follows four housewives who are struggling in their marriages and post-war conformity culture. The main character, Margaret, is intrigued by her new neighbor Charlotte, who wears a luxury fur coat, speaks with a distinct New York accent and has the confidence to talk back to a male pharmacist.
In an attempt to make friends with the mysterious and freethinking lady, Margaret forms a book club —– with her two friends Viv and Bitsy —- where they read “The Feminine Mystique” by Betty Friedan.
Friedan’s 1963 book called for societal change on the roles women ought to have in society. It argued that women have more to offer than mere domestic skills and could find fulfillment in a career; obvious to us, life-changing to these women.
Reading “The Feminine Mystique” facilitated discussions among these four women that were previously forbidden. They finally had a space to admit their dissatisfaction being homemakers — that they longed to pursue other passions they had given up when they got married. They realized that they weren’t the broken ones; the societal expectations were.
The use of the “book within a book” trope helped me connect deeper with the characters and their journeys. Despite reading this particular story on my own, I understand the experience of discussing a meaningful book with others. It’s moments like those that showcase the power of literature and storytelling — to challenge readers’ preconceived notions about the world.
The novel tackles complex issues such as motherhood, marriage and civil rights. Each of the women encounter challenges in their lives. From unfaithful and misogynistic husbands to infertility and balancing career and family life, their stories are wonderful reminders of the traditional societal expectations that feminists of the past fought to change.
At one point in the novel, Margaret goes to the bank to cash a check, but is prohibited from doing so without her husband’s signature — a right that married women weren’t afforded until the Equal Credit Opportunity Act of 1974.
Later on, Bitsy reveals the emotional abuse that she endures from her husband, who is 19 years older than her. He disregards her dream of becoming a veterinarian and tells her to focus her energy on getting pregnant.
But beyond the challenges they faced and the change they initiated, I also appreciated the characters’ imperfections. I find that often authors like to write their activist characters as morally superior, stuck fighting against a corrupt system. Bostwick made sure to show her women’s shortcomings as well.
There were moments where Charlotte too acted unfaithfully in her marriage or where Margaret lied to her family. It demonstrates that progress and activism are not a straight and narrow path.
I also appreciated that Bostwick made sure not to villainize all of her male characters. While there were certainly some irredeemable husbands — such as Charlotte and Bitsy’s — she also wrote plenty of good men. Viv’s husband was always supportive of her dreams, and Margaret’s husband had strong character development.
Overall, “The Book Club for Troublesome Women” is a story celebrating how books can provoke debates, challenge readers’ views and spark activist movements. Self-referentially, it shows that stories are a deeply powerful tool for change.
Emily Kratz can be reached at krat1542@stthomas.edu.
