2 stars for the topic of this book. I didn't know much about New York City's residential hotels before picking this book up, and I definitely didn't know anything about the Barbizon, the all-female residential hotel that counted among its guests the likes of Grace Kelly, Sylvia Plath, Joan Didion, and Phylicia Rashad. The history of this hotel, which spanned almost 100 years and hit its peak in the 1940s and 50s, is an absolutely worthy subject for a book. I was really looking forward to learning more about this hotel that, according to the subtitle, "set women free"
Unfortunately, Paulina Bren failed to wring any intrigue out of her premise. In the introduction, Bren notes that other authors have tried and failed to write books about the Barbizon, owing to a lack of sources about the Barbizon itself. It seems Bren's sources were equally thin, but rather than openly shift her focus, she maintains that this book is about the Barbizon...except it isn't really. This is almost more a book about Mademoiselle magazine, the magazine who headquartered its summer interns at the Barbizon throughout the mid-2oth century. And that's fine. If Bren really couldn't find any sources about the hotel, then focusing on the people and companies who made a home base there makes sense. But rather than acknowledge her change in focus, Bren keeps making sweeping statements about "the Barbizon" and its influence when her focus for the previous 50 pages has been on Mademoiselle or Powers models. Her evidence just never felt strong enough to back up her points, mostly because her overarching thesis (the Barbizon was a hotel that sort of liberated women within the limited confines of the 1900s) doesn't have anything to do with her individual chapters (women who worked as Powers models or interned for Mademoiselle). The Barbizon almost feels like an afterthought in its own book.
Despite being less than 300 pages, the book feels deeply repetitive. Part of the repetition occurs on a sentence level. Bren has certain phrases and sentence structures she overuses--the Barbizon is described as "a soft landing" twice within 5 pages at the end of the novel and it's like...were there no other descriptions available? Did an editor not catch this at all? It's also repetitive in its content. To her credit, Bren does acknowledge that the Barbizon catered to an extremely narrow segment of American society: namely, white, middle-class American women who could afford to live in New York for a summer and hopefully find careers as actors/models/writers/secretaries/etc. But boy, did I get tired of reading about these middle-class white women living at the Barbizon. Part of it surely was limitations presented by history itself--if so many of the Barbizon's residents were middle-class white women whose lives followed similar paths (Barbizon, job, marriage, suicide/death in some cases), then it makes sense why their stories would sound so similar here. But I think part of the problem were Bren's own limitations in writing. She presents EVERY single one of these women in the exact same way, and then seems to shy away from diving into anyone who doesn't quite fit that "pretty blonde from the Midwest becomes a model/writer/whatever and then goes home and gets married" archetype. Far and away the most interesting segment in this book is the part of the chapter devoted to Barbara Chase, the first African American guest editor at Mademoiselle who stayed at the Barbizon during her internship. Unfortunately, Chase's time at the Barbizon takes up barely half a chapter. I'm not sure if Bren didn't have enough material to write about Chase for an entire chapter (in the acknowledgments, Bren mentions that she did interview Chase, so it's not as though Chase was one of the women who'd passed on by the time Bren started researching the book), but it's disappointing that one of the few BIPOC women Bren focuses on gets so little page time compared to the likes of Sylvia Plath and Joan Didion. I get that Sylvia Plath and Joan Didion were a big deal, but like...we can read a gazillion biographies about them. Why not give the women who didn't fit the Barbizon's mold a little more time? (Although, to be fair, Barbara Chase has also lived a full, successful life as an acclaimed artist and writer, and the Mademoiselle internship was really just a blip on her resume, so maybe when Bren interviewed her, she didn't have much to tell because how could her guest editor summer in New York compare to her later life and work in Paris and Rome?)
Still, the Barbara Chase episode feels like a microcosm of the wider issues of this book, which is that Bren just doesn't seem that interested in anything outside of the extremely conventional and famous Barbizon resident stories. Two entire chapters are devoted to Sylvia Plath and Joan Didion (three, if you count the chapter about how the other guest editors who interned the same summer as Plath reacted to her death), and it just got tedious to read about. It's not that Didion or Plath are irrelevant to the story of the Barbizon (Plath especially), but in picking up a book just vaguely titled "The Barbizon," I wanted a wider-ranging survey of the women who stayed there, not a hyper-focused look at one of the most famous female writers in recent literature. I got so bored with Bren's focus on the Mademoiselle guest editors that I found myself more interested in some of the men who tried to sneak into the hotel. I'm not sure, in a book so obviously concerned with women's history, I should have walked away more curious about men, but such was the effect Bren's repetition had on me. Just anything to break up the "gee whiz Ohio good girl tries to make it as a model and stays at the Barbizon for a summer" story Bren kept trotting out.
It also just seemed, for all Bren harped on how the Barbizon encapsulated the various contradictions of the 1950s, that she just never went beyond surface level in her analysis. She was constantly gesturing at how the Barbizon embodied so much of the dichotomy of the 1950s--women came there to pursue careers, but only to the extent that it wouldn't interfere with their inevitable fates as housewives--but then never really dove into that in any depth. She kept circling around this idea that the Barbizon gave women limited freedom, but then never really analyzed it. And, I'm sorry, but if you're going to keep bringing up how this hotel actually limited women when your subtitle is "The Hotel That Set Women Free," then I expect the author to really dig in to the contradictions of her own premise, and Bren didn't, at least not in any satisfying way.
Ultimately, The Barbizon demonstrates why maybe it's for the best that historians prior to Bren gave up on writing their accounts of the hotel. The lack of sources shows, and Bren just didn't have the skill to create a nuanced, engaging history out of the sources she did have. So 2 stars for the fascinating history this book exposed me to, but nothing else for the writing and analysis of that history.