The best books with unlikely British female protagonists

As someone who was told as a girl that she couldn’t play football or wear boys’ clothes, having this book on my bedside table reminded me that I could, actually. 

The heroine is a feisty, arrogant, lonely orphan transported to an unfamiliar place who comes to life as she connects with nature, rescues a sickly boy hidden along the dark corridors of a decaying stately mansion, and brings a neglected garden back to life. She doesn’t take no for an answer, has kindness hidden in her grief-stricken heart, is not afraid to befriend boys, and gains strength and comfort from being in nature.

It’s a story I return to when I’m homesick for the birds, flowers, trees, and skies of England.

The first time I tried to read this book, I had to put it down. I like grammar, and this book is having none of it. Then I tried again a few weeks later because everyone said I should. Once I got used to it, I came to appreciate this stream-of-consciousness story filled with artists, poets, writers, lesbians, love triangles, and adventures, and, at its heart, unlikely female friendships between Black women living mostly in London, with plot twists and turns deepening their interconnectedness in often astonishing ways. 

The writing is so vivid that it made me feel as if I’d watched a film rather than read a book. A bright, multi-colored, hilarious, emotionally deep, socially aware, politically progressive, moving, and fast-paced film.

I first discovered T.S. Eliot Prize Winner Joelle Taylor through a poetry performance online. I was so moved that I immediately bought her poetry book. I found lines in this book that literally took my breath away, made me laugh out loud in recognition, or took me back to people and places dear to me. 

The poems tell stories of butch lesbians in the 1980s and 1990s, stories seldom told, and she tells them brilliantly, with heart, humor, and compassion. Joelle now has a novel out, The Night Alphabet, in which a woman gets all her tattoos connected with one single thread—of blood—connecting her to her past, present, and future—another amazing read.

I read this book before I’d found words to describe the impact on my teenage self of living in a patriarchal world that didn’t allow me to do things I wanted to because I was a girl—and that insisted I do things I didn’t want to. I read it before I’d heard the word feminist used other than as an insult. But the essentially feminist spirit of the novel touched me deeply. 

I raced through the book, hoping that this single mother who’d fled an alcoholic and abusive husband with her child would make it out alive, that she’d find her people, and that she’d get justice. Years later, I saw the book described as the first feminist novel, and for good reason—written in Victorian England, no less. 

Who can resist a story that begins, “I write this sitting in the kitchen sink. My feet are in it; the rest of me is on the draining board, which I have padded with our dog’s blanket and the tea-cozy”? Especially when you know the author also wrote 101 Dalmations? 

I loved this coming-of-age story for the teenage narrator’s quirky, elegant writing. She’s an aspiring novelist, “capturing” the characters around her in her diary. She’s largely left to her own devices, along with her two siblings, on the grounds of a remote castle, with a bohemian stepmother and a distant father suffering from writer’s block. It’s a light, farcical story, tinged with sadness, set in the English countryside and featuring another unlikely female protagonist breaking the mold.