CHRISTMAS AT THE WOMEN'S HOTEL

The residents of the Biedermeier gear up for the holidays in this winsome follow-up to Women’s Hotel (2024).

It’s December 1964 and the protagonists of Lavery’s previous novel are much as we last left them: scrimping and saving and carving out small but meaningful lives in New York City. Third-floor resident Lucianne Caruso is attempting to rectify a recent reduction in income through entrepreneurial spirit—while modern women no longer need chaperones to go out and about, she figures they might pay a small fee to be introduced to a decent and reliable date. Residential manager Katherine Heap, who’s a recovering alcoholic, has been steeling herself for another winter estranged from her family but is surprised by a letter from Ohio. Retired caricaturist Josephine Marbury and out-of-work typesetter Pauline Carter—both of the second floor—have been out of sorts ever since the latter caught the former in the midst of some light pickpocketing. The 11th floor’s Carol Lipscomb and Patricia De Boer are harboring stone eagles in their room and Mrs. Mossler, the building manager, might be catching wise. Mild scrapes ensue, without the slightest doubt that they will be resolved by Christmas. This is exactly what it appears to be: an unnecessary but nonetheless pleasurable seasonal return to a beloved cast and setting. Lavery maintains the wry tone and eye for period and character detail that made Women’s Hotel so appealing—for instance, regarding Lucianne and her various club memberships: “That is not to say that she took the Register at all seriously; it was merely sacred to her.” There is plenty of holiday spirit to be found in the Biedermeier, but marvelously little treacle.

As warming as hot cocoa but not so sweet that it will make your teeth ache.