Irrepressible: The Jazz Age Life of Henrietta Bingham

by Emily S. Bingham

Raised like a princess in one of the most powerful families in the American South, Henrietta Bingham was offered the helm of a publishing empire. Instead, she ripped through the Jazz Age like an F. Scott Fitzgerald character: intoxicating and intoxicated, selfish and shameless, seductive and brilliant, endearing and often terribly troubled. In New York, Louisville, and London, she drove both men and women wild with desire, and her youth blazed with sex. But her love affairs with women made her the subject of derision and caused a doctor to try to cure her queerness. After the speed and pleasure of her early days, the toxicity of judgment from others coupled with her own anxieties resulted in years of addiction and breakdowns. And perhaps most painfully, she became a source of embarrassment for her family-she was labeled "a three-dollar bill." But forebears can become fairy-tale figures, especially when they defy tradition and are spoken of only in whispers. For the biographer and historian Emily Bingham, the secret of who her great-aunt was, and just why her story was concealed for so long, led to Irrepressible: The Jazz Age Life of Henrietta Bingham.

Henrietta rode the cultural cusp as a muse to the Bloomsbury Group, the daughter of the ambassador to the United Kingdom during the rise of Nazism, the seductress of royalty and athletic champions, and a pre-Stonewall figure who never buckled to convention. Henrietta's audacious physicality made her unforgettable in her own time, and her ecstatic and harrowing life serves as an astonishing reminder of the stories lying buried in our own families.

Genres: Biography, Nonfiction, History, Queer, LGBT, Book Club, Biography Memoir

384 pages, Hardcover

First published June 16, 2015

About the author

Born into a journalism family, Emily early on decided she wanted to write. Among her grade-school efforts was a poem inspired by the typewriter her father gave her as a child, and on which he typed bedtime stories as he told them. Her poem, “Typewriter,” weighed the options—poet, novelist, journalist. The opportunity to dig deep into the past to tell true stories that shine a light on how we got here came later when she caught the bug for archival research and enrolled in Chapel Hill’s US history doctoral program.

Emily is currently Visiting Honors Faculty Fellow at Bellarmine University. Her essays, articles, and reviews have appeared in Vogue, Ohio Valley History, The Journal of Southern History, Newsweek, The Wall Street Journal, and New England Review. Her books are Irrepressible: The Jazz Age Life of Henrietta Bingham (2015), Mordecai: An Early American Family (2003), and, as editor with Thomas A. Underwood, The Southern Agrarians and the New Deal: Essays After I’ll Take My Stand (2001). She and her husband Stephen Reily have three children.

Reviews

[Caren · Rating 3 out of 5]

I read this book prior to hearing the author speak at our city library. The Bingham name is known to most long-term Louisvillians because the family used to own the local newspapers, the Courier-Journal (now, regrettably, owned by Gannett) and the Louisville Times (now defunct). I'd say they are sort of like local Kennedys, with their money, tragedy, and clout. It was interesting to me to read about how the family acquired their enormous wealth (primarily by marrying heiresses) and a bit about their background. The book was written by the great-niece of the book's subject, Henrietta Bingham, who ran with the "in" crowd in the early twentieth century. She made many, many trips across the Atlantic on the grand old ocean liners of the time, to hang out with her pals, many of whom were in the Bloomsbury set, and to see her therapist, an early protege of Freud. She was a lesbian, a fact that had to be carefully hidden in those days. She apparently had a lot of charm and was attractive to both men and women. She did have affairs with men, but her long-term relationships were with women, one of them being a well-known tennis star of the day. In the 1930s, her father became the ambassador to England and was very opposed to Hitler.(Henrietta and her father had a sort of co-dependent relationship, which is discussed in depth in the book.) Henrietta also knew and partied with many members of the Harlem Renaissance. It struck me that this woman never did anything of note herself, but that, by virtue of her money, met and partied with lots of well-known people from the time period. The book is probably mostly of interest to those who live in Louisville, to those researching early approaches to therapy, and to people with an interest in feminist and lesbian history. Some readers may just enjoy a little visit to the Jazz Age. One thing I liked about the book was its inclusion of many family photos, which were inserted into the text to match the topic being discussed, a format I liked. The book has extensive notes and a thorough index, which may be useful for researchers.
The author, who is an historian and a professor at Centre College in Kentucky, was an excellent speaker. Her talk will be archived at the Louisville Free Public Library website eventually, and when it is, I'll add the link to this review.

**The library has now provided the podcast for this talk. They used to archive the video of the talk, but, alas, this is only audio. You will want to open the slide show while you listen since she comments on the photos as she goes through her talk:
http://www.lfpl.org/podcast.html

[Nancy Oakes]

a longer post at my online reading journal is here; read on for the condensed version.

Just briefly, Irrepressible is written by Emily Bingham, a great-niece of Henrietta Bingham's, and she literally tries to "unpack" Henrietta's story as the book moves along. She'd always known about her great-aunt, the one the family called "an invert" (read "lesbian") but in an attic of the family home, Emily Bingham discovered quite a treasure trove of Henrietta's belongings (including letters) that set her on the path to discovering for herself just who this woman actually was.

A pivotal event in this story was the death of Henrietta's mother when Henrietta was only twelve; Henrietta was there when it happened. Since that horrible and traumatic event, her father (often referred to as "The Judge") came to depend on Henrietta for emotional support even after he married a second and third time. As the author notes,

"Her mother's death before her eyes left an open wound -- an an opening for an unusually close partnership with her father that both empowered her and made her weak."

This strange sort of interdependence between father and daughter had a beyond-huge effect on Henrietta's life, a point that the author returns to time and again throughout the book. As one reviewer puts it, she became "an emotional surrogate" for the Judge's "adored dead wife" even through his two marriages, right up to the time of his death.

Henrietta's story is compelling and Emily Bingham has done an amazing amount of research about her great-aunt; sadly, information about her later life is rather lacking in terms of documentation. The author takes us slowly through Henrietta's life as she charmed and romanced members of the Bloomsbury set in 1920s London, started a long-term course of psychoanalysis with Ernest Jones at the behest of her then-lover (and her former English professor at Smith) Mina Kirstein who herself wanted to be "cured" of her homosexual tendencies. As it turned out, Jones became someone in whom Henrietta could confide about the "seductive ambivalence" toward the Judge, even though the psychoanalysis "did not banish the anxiety and depression that stalked her." We are privy to her various affairs with both men and women while in London during the 1920s, her desire not to constantly be at her father's beck and call so that she could have some measure of freedom, her unflagging support of her father when he became FDR's Ambassador to Britain just prior to the beginning of World War II and then her life, at least what's known about it, through the Judge's death and beyond. One of the key ideas in this book is that while Henrietta had a large measure of freedom in terms of same-sex affairs as a young woman as long as she didn't flaunt things (her father even gave his tacit approval to her lesbian relationship with a tennis star with whom she lived while he served as ambassador), but as times changed, shifting morals, homophobia, and Henrietta's status vis a vis her family's prominence in Kentucky added to her already-overburdened mental state and ultimately contributed to her mental deterioration.

While I loved the subject and while I was cliche-ingly glued to this book, there were times when I kind of did the odd eyeroll or two over the author's writing -- very minor quibbles, to be sure, but still a bit annoying. I will say however that the things that make this such an intense and compelling novel -- Henrietta herself, her family's history, her ongoing desire for the freedom to be who she wanted to be and the obstacles that so often got in the way, as well as her later tragedies -- far outweigh my niggles with the occasional writing issues, making for one hell of a good book.

Get a copy. It's amazing.

[Rebecca · Rating 5 out of 5]

The biography of a nearly forgotten member of one of Louisville, Kentucky’s most notable families. Deeply researched and beautifully written by her great niece, the book tells a story that is intriguing and heartbreaking. Easily one of the best books I've ever read-- Henrietta's story pulled me into Jazz Age Louisville and opulence that would rival F.Scott Fitzgerald's Gatsby.

[Mel · Rating 5 out of 5]

I was so pleased to discover a biography of Henrietta Bingham had been written. I'd come across her name in my Beatrix Lehmann research. I'd suspected that her and Bea had dated but I knew nothing about her. This filled in those gaps wonderfully. It was a proper insight into the woman, the times she lived in and her unusual life.

The biggest surprise for me was that she was from such a rich American background. Growing up in the south, with a father who was "struggling" compared with some of his relatives but one who still ended up as the Ambassador to England on the even of the second world war.

Henrietta's life was an interesting one, even if she didn't "produce" anything. She was in a tragic car accident when she was 13 that saw the death of her mother (p.22-23). She had to be emotionally supportive for her father as well as a fairly useless elder brother. She was bisexual and had a series of relationships with both men and women. The first woman she was seriously involved with was a teacher at her school, Mina Stein Kirsten who she met in 1918 when Mina was 24 (p.47). She first arrived in England in 1922 traveling with her father and Mina. The two women ended up staying in England together and explored the countrisde. Mina insisted Henrietta get psychological counselling, and they both saw a Freudian analyst. P. 72-73 talks about how bisexuality was somewhat accepted at that time, with women such as Bessie Smith and Tallulah Bankhead being more open about their sexuality. p. 81 mentions how Henrietta got to know the Bloomsbury group, including Dora Carrington, with whom she had a realationship, through going to Francis Birrell and David Garrett's bookshop. p. 123, 131 talks in more detail about Dora and Henrietta's relationship. It is probably worth noting that the relatively poly attitude of the queer people at that time still seems to make biographers uncomfortable, tring to figure out which relationships were which, and how jealousy fitted in. They can't seem to accept that people could be having more than one relationship and that wasn't necessarily a bad thing.

In 1927 Henrietta's father and Mina decided she should marry, but in 1927 she met Beatrix, referred to in the book throughout as Peggy, and the two started a relationship that lasted roughly five years. "In the midst of this summer of nuptials, Henrietta tested what her father would ut up with to have her near him. She asked Miss Lehmann - the twenty four year old English actress who had the use of her Bently and had sent so many letters to her while she was in America - to join the family party as it moved from Edinburgh to grouse shooting near Guthrie Castle. They were more than just friends. A framed photograph of Beatrix stood on Henrietta's dresser to the end of her life".

Even though it didn't last more than a few years it seemed to have been significant as the author said Henrietta had a photo of Beatrix on her dressing table till she died. Which I found very touching.

p. 184 During WWI Peggy disguised herself as a boy so she could attend scout activities. (she would have been 10-13) ... She was likely introduced to Henrietta through Tallulah Bankhead, whom she understudied in three different productions. There were all-night escapades with Bankhead, p. 185 who would suffer pre-opening-night "nerve storms" and insist "that she couldn't be left". Peggy, living on a meager allowence, meanwhile had "stockings to mend, bills to pay (impossible) and understudy (70 pages) to learn". According to contemporaries - and by the standards of the era - Lehmann was remarkably open about her lesbian leanings. "Tallulah must have been in love with her," recalled Bankhead's co-star Glenn Anders. "We were together all the time". ... The Glasgow bulletin covered the vacationing American press baron and his party, and ran a photo of Miss H. Bingham and Miss P Lehman [sic]. Striding together in their tartans, walking sticks in hand, they flank a shotgun-toting Mr Philips... That same day, Henrietta sat shoulder to shoulder with Peggy, on the moor alonside a chauffeured automobile, their legs tucked sideways under them. The photographer caught them in conversation, cigarettes in hand and nipping dark liquid from small glasses...
p. 186 Henrietta stayed in Britain after the shooting party, foxhunting and spending time with Peggy...
p. 188 Like Henrietta, Peggy was an entertaining companion, adding spark and cleverness to a group. She could turn her mordant humour against herself, loathed sentimentality, and insisted on her independence. ... But the relationship that began while Henrietta was at least informally engaged to John Houseman persisted through the decade. The woman treated the bond provissionally...
p. 195 The judge relaxed considerably during this period and gave his blessing to the "close friendship" with Miss Lehmann. But even if he and other people knew or thought they knew about his daughter's sexual predilections, Bingham demanded that her clothing and public demeanour not prove it...

p. 198 "Henrietta announced an earlier than scheduled return to England. She talked of taking Peggy Lehmann to see Berlin cabarets and soak up the midnight sun in Sweden... On July 13 1930 Henrietta [bought a new Bentley] and Henrietta and Peggy were off to Stokholm, attracted by a grand exhibition of modern designs. Following that, they installed themselves at a Baltic resort. Sweden was "the greatest fun", Peggy told her sister Rosamond; the country was full of perfect blondes, replete with good food, and amazingly free in it social mores. ... they made their way south, via Berlin, with its open transvestite balls and lesbian bars that went well beyond the Bloomsbury's experiments. (Two years later, Peggy would return to Berlin seeking German film roles). In Munich she and Henrietta attended a vast avant-garde production called Totenmal, or call of the dead, mounted by the lesbian dancer Mary Wigman with over the top lights, dances and unaccompanied choirs, and masked men reading the letters of soldiers lost in he great war. It was a staggering work of peace propaganda even as the Nazi party closed in on political control. the couple were
p. 199 deliriously happy in in Munich. "Henrietta" Peggy wrote to Rosamond, "has been adorable and the best of travel companions (and often unspeakably funny").
[They travelled to the Alps, Paris, then crossed the channel and Peggy joined Henrietta on the family holiday in Scotland] Peggy's show of enthusiasm for Judge Bingham, whom she had first met at Guthrie three years earlier, marked a departure from the antagonistic stance of Henrietta's other friends and lovers toward a man who seemed at best overbearing and narcissistic and at worst Mephistophelean. In bringing Miss Lehmann once more into the house party, Henrietta asserted a relationship that was both unmistakable and unmentionable. ...
p. 205 Henrietta meanwhile endured a series of blows that included the increasingly dire economic crisis and the unwinding of her relationship with Peggy. She had spent Christmas 1931 with the Lehmanns, where the family theatricals involved John comically cross-dressing as their American mother. For Henrietta the cheer came aided by quantities of alcohol. Peggy noted her sweetness and the "largesse and generosity" she brought tot he holiday, but none of the Lehmanns could miss the way she applied "herself with religious and fanatical fervor to all bottles.
p. 206 Peggy's appraisal of her life could easily have expressed Henrietta's own, "getting uglier and more lonesome every moment. Always falling in love with the wrong people. It is small consolation that they return the compliment". ...
p. 208 [on finding out Henrietta was starting a relationship with Hope Williams] "Peggy minced no words at the news of Henrietta's attachment to the star. She told her sister that her ex was "living in homo-sin with Tallulah's best girl".
p. 209 In England Peggy Lehmann admitted to "ride-em-cowboy" fantasies. "I should think, she wrote to Henrietta, "It was the ideal contry for bringing out most any girl's subconscious wish for spectacular masculinity" [odd to note that this is one of Peggy's letters to Henrietta that ended up in Rosamond's archive!]
p. 210-211 has Peggy writing Henrietta asking her, "What do you do with yourself all day - and night?" Was Henrietta, "rich, poor, happy, miserable, in-love, out-of-love, analysed, unanalysed?"
p. 215 Hope williams visited at the embassy, and the whole family went to a play starring Peggy Lehmann as Emily Bronte [Wild decembers] .
p. 226-227 talks of Henrietta visiting Helen's flat with Peggy to help Helen with her novel.
p. 238 There were jealousies too, such as a night where, after dinner at the savoy with Peggy Lehmann and another guest named Percy, they all returned to Madge's. Helen grew so upset at something she witnessed happen that she fled in the darkness of Stiner's stall, where she stroked him until her composure returned.... or Henrietta and Peggy could have been flirting...
p 248-249 talks about how it was becoming less acceptable to be homosexual
p 275 Peggy Lehmann's acting career was compromised by her leftist policis and her unusually open bisexuality. However, 1960s and 70s British television provided roles that engaged her comic abilities and milked her eccentric profile, and fans of the original Dr Who tv series celebrate her campy (and suggestively lesbian) portrayal of Professor Amelia Rumford.

Things were not so good for Henrietta though who suffered from severe depression and alcoholism, thought to be a result of the constant homophobia she faced. A rather sad ending for an interesting and unconventional woman.

[Suzanne Stroh · Rating 3 out of 5]

In London between the wars, they called her the Kentucky Princess. She was an inspiration. A muse.

She ran with the avant-garde but produced no body of work. Instead, the American heiress was obsessively painted, sculpted, written about and made love to. She was a rebel. She flaunted convention. Childhood photographs attest to her boldness. Her social debut was a Bloomsbury party where she mixed the cocktails. Nobody knew what to make of Henrietta Bingham.

She could play the saxophone, sing the blues and clear five foot fences on horseback. Reaching maturity early in the Jazz Age, she became an international citizen who’d spent most of her adult life in Britain but still spoke with a southern drawl. To those who were susceptible to her charms, Henrietta was a rarity, an exotic American, as beguiling as her friend Tallulah Bankhead—only richer. Clever but dyslexic with a high EQ, she might have been one of the first American women publishers of a well-endowed regional newspaper, but she didn’t share her father’s relentless ambition. Nor did she want her father’s power.

It’s easy to understand why not. After the death of her mother in a train wreck that twelve-year old Henrietta survived, all she craved was high speed, sweet oblivion and loving embraces. Lots. Offer them and you were richly rewarded. In orgasm, David Garnett told his daughter, she “blushed all over her body.”

Her blue eyes were so captivating, explained another of her male lovers, because she had learned how to look the memory of them into you. Her gaze may have been searing, but only “flickering images” remain. The American ambassador’s daughter was a lesbian. All her deep and lasting sexual relationships were with women. It wasn’t safe to keep her letters, and if she kept her own diaries, they haven’t surfaced—or survived.

Henrietta Bingham’s great-niece has written a page turner in search of her elusive, enigmatic forebear. It’s a book with heroes and villains, landscapes and interiors, and plenty of Lost Generation atmosphere. One published review recommends reading it for the plot alone. I kept waiting for the villains to come to a bad end, but they only kept fattening on Henrietta, who never really took charge of her own life and resources. In the end, Henrietta Bingham wasted away.

To the biographer’s credit, Emily Bingham never leaves Henrietta’s side. She is steadfast, insisting that Henrietta’s Jazz Age lesbian narrative was the driving force in her life. It was a wise decision not to bury this in yet another book about the scandalous and wealthy Binghams of Louisville, Kentucky. For it was Henrietta's defiant queerness that drove her lasting contributions. Who knew, for instance, that Henrietta Bingham championed great talents of the Harlem Renaissance alongside Carl Van Vechten? Or that her life with athlete Helen Jacobs provided the Wimbledon champ with European training grounds--and a stable platform from which to change careers. Emily Bingham is an historian in quiet command of her material. That’s a good thing, considering how meager her resources were—leaving aside two “mother lodes” of love letters written by men Henrietta ultimately jilted.

It’s refreshing to read about an American heiress in a book written by somebody who knows one when she sees one. This book compares favorably to Frances Osborne’s biography of her great-grandmother Idina Sackville. (If you liked The Bolter and you’re like me, you’ll like Irrepressible even more.)

Even so, Emily Bingham’s lovely cool prose dissipates some of Henrietta’s heat. It's a measured book about an intemperate woman. The subject takes risks; the biographer does not.

I wished, for example, that the biographer had come down a bit harder on the crimes of psychiatry. I wished the establishment were called to account for its role in wrecking Henrietta's life. One of Henrietta's doctors prescribed a lobotomy to control behavior arising from drinking and drugging to cope with society's rejection of her lesbianism. Ghastly.

Thank god Henrietta resisted, with what seems to have been her last strength. She was nothing if not brave. But after following HB through decades of so-called psychoanalytic treatment, we are left to wonder about her views and reactions. Yes, it is a sensitive family matter. Henrietta's trustees were complicit in unethical attempts to control her. Her younger brother's role was troubling, even when we understand the deep and tender bonds between siblings that the biographer evokes so clearly. But the social and medical crimes of the 1950s need to be named so that they may never be repeated. This book might have made that point a bit more forcefully.

I also disliked the heavy reliance on the Freudian lexicon. Now is the time to distance ourselves from the worst errors of the Freudians, not to perpetuate the illusion that Freudian psychology is still widely accepted. It is not. Bowlby's attachment theory, now thought to be the more definitive explanation of the foundations of psychological wellbeing, explains Henrietta's scars simply and perfectly. As far as I know, there isn't a single statement from Henrietta praising the benefits of the psychoanalysis she received, and if the reader is to go purely on behavior, she never behaved as if that therapy changed her life for the better.

The true crime story at the core of this biography involves psychoanalysis. Henrietta was pushed into psychoanalysis in her early 20s by her self-loathing girlfriend Mina Kerstein, the Filene's heiress and Smith College professor. Ambitious, controlling but lacking Henrietta's sparkle and EQ, Mina spent a lifetime trying to turn herself (and other bent people) straight. Mina's desperate attempt to rid herself of the lesbian label got both women psychoanalyzed by Ernest Jones, a cult figure styling himself as a disciple of Sigmund Freud. In search of fame, fortune and case studies, Jones tinkered with his clients, guided by ethics that are repellent today--including a kind of dark collusion with his patient, Mina Kerstein.

I know Emily Bingham’s terminology is technically correct and historically appropriate, but to me, it dated the book. Take the overuse of the archaic word “homosexual,” for instance, when the author is commenting on people we now understand to be “queer,” “gay” or "lesbian." Why not permit more of the careful anachronisms like "gay" that can make history come alive? In insisting on "homosexual," the historian’s rigor distanced me from Henrietta, rather than bringing me closer. ("And so we beat on," Fitzgerald might comment about the futility of this approach, since it only drives Henrietta back into the past.)

Finally, from the fantastic "jug band" scene on, I wanted to know more about Henrietta's black friends, going back into her childhood. How did she navigate those troubled waters in Jim Crow Kentucky?

Compare this book with Joan Schenkar’s more experimental biography of Dolly Wilde, Henrietta’s contemporary (and British counterpart in fragility). Decide for yourself which portrait is the more intimate.

But these are small complaints. What really shines through is the author’s sympathy for Henrietta and her problems. Henrietta Bingham’s meteoric path blazed through half a century when pioneering queers were first lionized as celebrities, then later vilified as perverts. Sadly, it’s an age old cycle. Emily Bingham’s fierce loyalty to her subject brings out what’s timeless in the story.

It has always seemed to me that the best biographies generally come from authors with affection for their subjects. Intelligent, accomplished and headstrong women have always been hallmarks of the Bingham family. Emily Bingham is the latest in that line. Taking up her legacy, she has written a compelling, racy family history to admire. Better yet, there’s a heartbreaking and progressive lesbian at the center of it.

It's about time.

More, please, Ms. Bingham.

[Sara · Rating 4 out of 5]

Who didn't this woman sleep with? What didn't she guzzle? And how many debutantes did she not goose? A steamship soap mixed with a dash of queer literary history and a long neglected look at psychoanalytical thought re: lesbianism in the early 20th century. That last part rescues it from being another poor little rich girl story. Warning though, you might want to stop when she meets the tennis player and sails off into an all too brief sunset. Gal throws a great party, but it ends like an Albee play.

[Cathy · Rating 4 out of 5]

When she went off to college in 1919, Henrietta Bingham was a child of one of the wealthiest families in America. This wealth and privilege, along with an adventurous spirit and an irresistible charm, allowed her to move in the highest social and artistic circles in New York and London over the next 25 years. She hung out with Virginia Woolf's Bloomsbury Group, introduced her rich white friends to the black blues and jazz performers she adored, and had relationships with people like actor/playwright/producer John Houseman and tennis star Helen Hull Jacobs. But Henrietta's seemingly charmed life was fraught with difficulties. She was bisexual in an age where alternative lifestyles were barely discussed and rarely accepted. She had a difficult relationship with a controlling, emotionally dependent father. She had problems with drug and alcohol dependency and very likely a learning disability. This well-researched and fast-paced biography tells the story of a forgotten member of one of America's most prominent families. It is a must-read for anyone interested in 20th-century women's or LGBT history.

[Catherine · Rating 4 out of 5]

Interesting and engaging biography about a wealthy queer woman who came of age in the 1920s. The light the author sheds on the queer/artist communities of the time, the impact of Freudianism and its successors and the compassion with which she writes about her grand aunt make it a compelling read.

[Tex · Rating 2 out of 5]

This should have really been a better book. The time frame of the jazz age in the US and Britain. Rich plus famous families, artists, and politicians. Open and unambiguous sexuality.
And, it reads like a recitation of facts. A shame. I was really hoping to get caught up in the age.

[rachel · Rating 3 out of 5]

*3.5, very entertaining tbh…everybody was soooo bisexual

[Kathy · Rating 3 out of 5]

Quotable:
[C]ontemporary Freudian thought… do something about her single state or risk being filled up “with repressions… The only alternative is to have your sexual organs removed along with your wisdom teeth.”

“How I hate being a girl,” she cried in one letter, “with female encumbrances & hanging flesh.” A long, agonizing relationship with a fellow Slade School artist, Mark Gertler, floundered under his pressure for physical intimacy. Intercourse, even the idea of it, left her feeling besmirched, and [Dora] Carrington may in fact have suffered from what is known today as gender identity disorder.

Each way Henrietta turned she felt the demands of others.

Her departure set. Henrietta still had six weeks of an English summer before her. She milked it for everything she could. Her $866 in monthly allowance would equal roughly $10,000 in 2015, and Mina’s father was similarly generous.

“Personal relationships may enrich the continuity of the flux of life, they may even change it but one can never depend on them or expect anything permanent from them.” –Mina Kirstein

[David Garnett] was at work on a short story about a scientist seeking to isolate human emotions; he concluded that love could never be disentangled from “jealousy, fear, cruelty, and lust,” and was nothing more than “a mixture of other passions.” Love was messy and unreliable. But nothing was more important.

In November 1935, Henrietta stood with her father in London, receiving guests for the annual Thanksgiving Dinner. His speech contrasted Britain and the United States, “the two great Democracies,” with Nazi Germany and Fascist Italy. The democracies must exert “their great weight throughout the world on the behalf of peace,” he said The residents at Prince’s Gate felt grave concerns about what lay ahead…

[Bebe (Sarah) Brechner · Rating 3 out of 5]

Living in Louisville, Kentucky, creates an awareness of the famous Bingham family that owned the once renowned newspaper, the Louisville Courier Journal. The newspaper still exists, under the generic mass-produced banner of a conglomerate now, but in its heyday, it was one of the top newspapers in the U.S. The Bingham family was a colorful one, but the public never really knew about Henrietta Bingham, a notorious, free spirited lesbian who has been effectively purged from family history until this account, written by her great niece, an historian. Henrietta was involved with the Bloomsbury set, and I'll leave it for readers to uncover the extent (primarily sexual) of that involvement. This biography is very detailed, rather tediously so, of a woman who contributed nothing to the world but had an undeniably strong pull on most of those who met her. Sure, she had major daddy issues and social problems with her sexual preference, but she comes as intellectually weak, cosseted, and a bit boring. Is it the fault of the writer whose credentials and research are impeccable or is it the subject who is ultimately not very worthy? Im not sure, but the narrative started to drag rather quickly for me. Not recommended except for those interested in closet history, early psychoanalysis, and the minutiae of the Bloomsbury set. That said, the research will definitely be of value in those topics mentioned.

[Kate · Rating 4 out of 5]

I read a lot about queer women during the interwar period, so I was very excited to read this. In many ways, it succeeds. Henrietta is full present, fascinating almost everyone who met her. The middle sections, about Henrietta's time at Smith and her interactions with the Bloomsbury Group were fantastic. Bingham's research was flawless and effectively integrated into the text. Every person presented sparked my curiosity and I fell down many Google "rabbit holes" looking up people like Dora Carrington and Mina Kirstein. I want to get my hands on those archive collections right now!

However, because Henrietta was often a muse for others and didn't produce much work herself, the book could be dry when describing her early and later life. This is a regular problem with biographies of "muses", and I finished the book feeling the way I feel whenever I read about Dolly Wilde or Esther Murphy, sad and vaguely frustrated.

[Emily Holladay · Rating 4 out of 5]

I read this book for a book club I'm in. Admittedly, I rarely read historical books unless they are fiction. But, with this book being written about an infamous Louisville family, I thought it would be interesting. It did not disappoint. Henrietta Bingham is a fascinating character, whose reach beyond her hometown is amazing. I was intrigued by the way her family and culture received her eccentricities. I'm glad her great niece decided to reintroduce her to the world!

[Martine · Rating 5 out of 5]

This book was excellent. Rich is Louisville history. Transports you back to the Roaring Twenties, and an in-depth look at the life of Henrietta Bingham and the Bingham family. Mesmerizing

[Sharon · Rating 2 out of 5]

Enjoyed the gossip about the Bloomsbury group and other early 20th-cen notables, but in the middle the story loses its sense of momentum, feeling repetitive, and I struggled to stay interested.

[Lynette · Rating 4 out of 5]

I'll start off by saying that the author, Emily Bingham, did an incredible job with her research, especially considering how many letters, diaries, and other documentation was destroyed by the women and men who fell in love with Henrietta, as well as Henrietta herself.

It was deeply saddening to me to learn how there was a gay culture and athletes who were openly out in the 20s and 30s, and the shift that happened shortly after due to the McCarthy era, anti-communism, etc. Folks who identified as LGBTQ+ were shoved into the closet, including those who were open before. I had no idea. It was a reminder that we must continue to fight for our rights as queer-identifying people, and protect those around us. Shifts happen. :/

Back to the Kentuckian heiress herself, I wish I could watch video of Henrietta / see her in person. She, by all accounts, was radiant, and captivated everyone around her. It makes me wonder what it would be like if she was born now, as LGBTQ+ identities have become more acceptable. I loved reading all the descriptions of her, and am devastated how her life unfolded near the end.

As for the book itself, I really did enjoy parts of it, but had to push myself to get through it. The history was incredible, but the writing a bit dry at times. Loved all the photos and descriptions when they arose, as well as learning about all the people who Miss Bingham came into contact with and had fall in love with her.

What I really appreciated about the book is that there was no judgement, that I saw, from the author. In fact, she was sympathetic and loving toward her great-aunt, despite how poorly those in her life spoke of her.

Anyway, I would definitely recommend the book as there are so many famous and interesting people who she was connected with. And I've never read a biography about a muse before, which is exactly what Henrietta was for many of the time. She truly must have been remarkable.

Now, if only there could be a docuseries on her and her love affairs...

[Donna · Rating 2 out of 5]

I really wanted to give it about 2.5 stars, maybe even 3, but just couldn't do it. Loved the first 3rd of the book, but as it went on past that, ugh, bogged down. So, she was a lesbian as well as a rich girl, who lived as she pleased regardless of her father's demands on her life. The amount of alcohol consumed, the amount of smoke inhaled, the meds popped--well, it's a wonder she and her friends, except for those who committed suicide, lived as long as they did. Again, the beginning of the book was great, but lost me as it went on.

To be fair, though, the book demonstrates what homosexuals and bisexuals go through, trying to please family as well as society, trying to fit into what is deemed an acceptable mold. I would dare say, during Henrietta's time, especially as a "poor little rich girl," she was better able to continue her lifestyle without accountability for it. However, her lifestyle took a toll on her body and got her in the end.

Parts of me want to feel bad for her, for her losses, for the demands her father placed on her, but she could have walked away from him, yet didn't. His money was necessary for her to continue the lifestyle she led, the travel, the horses, the alcohol, therapy, etc. In my opinion, she was born at the wrong time. Page 183, for me, pretty much sums up her life, her struggle and the premise or thesis of this book, which the author took 292 pages to support. In that regard, the author was successful. However, after a point, I got it and no longer wanted to keep reading about Henrietta's escapades.

I found the way she died really rather sad. Seemingly, she died alone, in many ways, because of or in spite of the life she led, but it was that jazz-age lifestyle that obviously contributed to her decline in health. Seemingly, too, she died unfulfilled, yet she had lived her life on her terms, so I couldn't feel badly for her for long. We all are often our own worst enemies.

[Kristi Richardson · Rating 5 out of 5]

What a character and what a life!
I couldn't help but be enthralled by this book of a woman who lived her life to the fullest during the Jazz Age and beyond. I had never heard of Henrietta Bingham but she mingled with many greats and near greats. She loved a member or two of the Bloomsbury Group, she was John Houseman's first love and her father was the Ambassador to Great Britain before John F Kennedy's father.
She had a complicated relationship with her father, (her mother died in front of her eyes when her car was hit by a train). She was probably one of the first people to be pschoanalyzed because of her homosexual feelings and depression. She was a capable woman but because her daddy controlled the purse strings, she had to stay with him most of his life.
I enjoyed this book about a woman who was born before her time, but if she had been born now, she wouldn't have been as memorable.
I checked this book out at my local library.

[Joseph J. · Rating 5 out of 5]

The title says it all! Henrietta Bingham, yes one of THE LOUISVILLE BINGHAMS, ran an unorthodox and to the standards of the time radical course, from the staid Southern society of Kentucky across the Atlantic to the artsy and nonconformist Bloomsbury group of writers and authors. Henrietta's life was at times shadowed by, and other times eclipsed her powerful father's careers as political leader, publisher and Ambassador to London between the World Wars. From the intellectual circles of Vanessa Bell to the grass courts of Wimbledon, and Henrietta's long term relationship with tennis great Helen Jacobs, this is a breathless romp through the United States and Great Britain in the first half of the twentieth century. Irrepressible is also a fascinating window into the lesbian worlds of that time, from elite schools for young women to literary worlds where sexual desire and love knew no bounds of orientation. Years ago I read-I still refer back to-the tragedies of the powerful Binghams in Marie Brenner's House of Dreams. This life of Henrietta, penned by her great-niece, compliments and completes the family story.

[Erin · Rating 5 out of 5]

This book was on my to-read list for awhile after hearing the author speak at a local event, and when I finally got around to listening to the audio book I regretted putting it off so long. The story of Henrietta Bingham sounds interesting enough initially, with her international lifestyle in the roaring twenties and a list of friends, lovers, and acquaintances peppered with famous names. This story turns out to be so much more than that, however, and the author skillfully and sensitively portrays a chaotic, damaged, vibrant, brave, and caring woman, who I empathized with deeply.

[Vickie Green · Rating 5 out of 5]

Another excellent book by Emily Bingham

After reading Emily Bingham’s My Old Kentucky Home I decided to read this book and I’m so glad I did. Oh, to have known Henrietta in the 1920-30s and been a guest at her parties! Unbelievably sad yet fascinating life she had. How shameful that so many of her friends erased her from their personal history. She deserved better. Treat yourself to this marvelous book. How great it would be if Irrepressible were made into a movie!

[Rebecca Tolley · Rating 5 out of 5]

Excellent subject, research, and writing. Love the Jazz Age, but Bingham was a new-to-me figure. Her relationships with the Bloomsbury Group were intriguing. Her athleticism in basketball and foxhunting were fascinating as well. Also really loved the chapters about Helen Hull Jacobs. And when Bingham bred horses and ran a farm. The saddest part was realizing the very negative affect that being sexually closeted had on Bingham's life.

[Bea Elwood · Rating 3 out of 5]

I'm stunned. A beautiful tribute to the Great-Aunt no one wants to talk about, and maybe in part because she was gay in a time that saw that as a disease, but maybe also in part because of how sad the dimming of her light left the world. Tragic. I couldn't get over all the name dropping, she literally seemed to have known or met everyone of importance in the 20's and 30's.

[Kb · Rating 4 out of 5]

Well-written biography of a woman whose influence on her sexual conquests (both men and women, but mostly women) was far-reaching, yet so devastating that many of her ex-lovers, famous and otherwise, simply erased all reference to her from their lives.

[Lisa Mcbroom · Rating 5 out of 5]

Emily Bingham's great aunt Henrietta Bingham was never mentioned in the family. One day Emily finds a trunk with some of Henrietta's momentos in it.A very well researched biography of the hedonstic period known as The Roaring 20s!

[Jennifer · Rating 1 out of 5]

Only interesting if you like name-dropping. Henrietta wasn’t interesting on her own, but you’re supposed to find her interesting because famous people were obsessed by her. I couldn’t get through it—no trajectory no build of plot or momentum.

[Reader · Rating 5 out of 5]

Historic but relatively recent enough to connect the dots of the people, the communities, and what it means to be of the Bingham family. Also brings in other people to connect to outside the state and community. A good book, even if you are unfamiliar with the Bingham legacy.

[Elizabeth · Rating 3 out of 5]

Includes family tree of four generations.