Beryl Bainbridge occupies an unusual position among the highprofile literary authors of her generation. After a false start with two relatively unsuccessful early novels, her career took off quickly in the early 1970s when she began writing in the more concise style for which she has become known. The first of these novels, Harriet Said … (1972), was well received and the second, The Dressmaker (1973), was shortlisted for the Booker Prize. This success continued and, with the notable exception of the Booker, for which she was shortlisted five times but never won, Bainbridge was awarded most of the major British literary prizes and her name regularly features in discussions of the greatest contemporary British authors. During her lifetime, her writing was widely praised by press critics and fellow novelists including Graham Greene, Will Self and Margaret Atwood, and cited as an influence by writers such as Hilary Mantel and Andrea Levy. Following her death in 2010, writers and critics lined up to share their memories of and admiration for Bainbridge and, in a controversial gesture, the Man Booker committee created a ‘Best of Beryl’ award, allowing the public to vote for their favourite of Bainbridge's five Booker-nominated novels. Yet despite this acclaim, Bainbridge has often been overlooked by academic critics and her novels ignored or glossed over in studies of post-war and contemporary literature.

One reason for this imbalance between public and scholarly attention is linked to Bainbridge's authorial persona. Nick Turner has argued that middle-aged and older women writers tend to be marginalized in a literary marketplace increasingly geared towards youth; he suggests that exceptions occur when the author ‘can be portrayed as a lovable eccentric’, citing Bainbridge as an example.’ Yet although this image of lovable eccentricity may have helped Bainbridge gain a public profile, it has also deflected attention from the complexities and originality of her writing. The focus on her smoking habits, on the taxidermy and Victorian bric-a-brac in her Camden townhouse, and on her tipsy appearances at literary events has damaged Bainbridge's reputation as much as it has benefited her career.