N. J. Mastro explores the tumultuous life of Mary Wollstonecraft in Solitary Walker

Mary Wollstonecraft is perhaps best known for two accomplishments: A Vindication of the Rights of Woman (1792), a treatise that caused her to be remembered as the first feminist; and her status as the mother of Mary Shelley, author of Frankenstein.

As significant as these are, Wollstonecraft’s life was extraordinary for many other reasons. N.J. Mastro’s biographical novel explores them in depth, lavishing equal time on her innermost feelings and outward actions, as well as the tumult stirred up when they conflicted.

Wollstonecraft didn’t just talk the talk: she walked the walk, serving as an example of her belief that if women were given more than the limited education that society deemed appropriate, their intellectual and social development would flourish. Following an effective short prologue in which she tries and fails to protect her mother from her drunk father’s abuse, we meet Mary at twenty-eight, just as she’s being let go from her position as governess to an aristocratic Irish family’s daughters. The girls adore her, but her teachings are too broad and academic for their mother’s liking.

This setback spurs Mary to “make her own way in the world as a solitary woman,” heading to London to “live by her pen” in England’s literary capital. To earn a living, she accepts an invitation to review books for a progressive new journal – at a time when reviewing was competitive, well-paid, and mostly done by men!

Mary’s passions spring to life: her absorption into the lively community at the home of her publisher Joseph Johnson, where she holds her own at dinner conversations when she’s the only woman present; her determination to share her ideas through writing, despite Mr. Johnson’s gentle advice that she must publish anonymously; her growing irritation about the impositions of her family, always requesting money she’s hard-pressed to supply; and her curiosity about the dark eroticism of the oil painting The Nightmare, as well as its artist. She enjoys male friendships, but with many examples of marriage’s negative effect on women weighing on her mind, Mary guards herself when it comes to romantic and sexual relationships. The depth of her emotions, once they surface, catches her unaware.

The novel proceeds chronologically, focusing on key periods of Mary’s life and how her character transformed. Some of her exploits would be considered significant in any day and age, such as moving abroad to observe a new republic’s violent birth firsthand and directing her own solo trip through parts of remote Scandinavia. Mary’s time in France is especially dangerous given her nationality. Augmenting the stress and unease are the fraught personal circumstances in which Mary finds herself.

Mastro’s writing is skillful and precise, creating descriptions of settings and characters that linger. She has an eye for atmospheric details: “Everyone’s clothes felt damp; even the pages of their books had gone limp,” she writes of a hot, rainy summer day in Bristol. Nearly all the characters are historically documented; if you’re familiar with the period, you may figure out which one(s) are fictional. All is explained in an author’s note. This is a well-researched, admirable fictional portrait that will leave you amazed at the daring and vigorous way Mary moved through her world.

Solitary Walker was published by Black Rose Writing in February (reviewed from an ARC copy).