One of the many societal changes during the 1920s was the way that women were beginning to see themselves. For instance, while a few countries (New Zealand was the first) had already enfranchised women, others (e.g. the UK and the USA) did that during the early ‘20s. And it wasn’t only voting. Women began to live independently, weren’t necessarily in a hurry to marry, and had careers. More and more often, women took charge of their own financial, professional, and personal/sexual lives. Of course, there was still sexism, and it was often blatant (there still is, truth be told). But not all women were content to stay home and have babies and cook and clean. Those who could do so were beginning to insist on more. That change was certainly a part of real life, and we see it in crime-fictional characters, too.

Agatha Christie’s Dumb Witness introduces Theresa Arundell. She’s a very independent young woman who lives life on her own terms. She smokes, drinks, runs with a ‘party’ crowd, and so on. She does have a fiancé, Dr. Rex Donaldson, and she loves him. But she certainly doesn’t let him tell her what to do, where to go, or how to dress. She becomes mixed up in a murder case when her Aunt Emily dies of what turns out to be poison. Aunt Emily was very wealthy, and all of her heirs, including Theresa, very much needed the money they’d inherit. So, when Hercule Poirot investigates this suspicious death, she is one of the suspects he considers. Interestingly, another suspect is Theresa’s cousin, Bella Tanios, who’s not nearly as modern (certainly not as chic). She’s in a stable marriage with two children and has the sort of life women were expected to have at the time. Her character makes an interesting contrast to Theresa’s.

Jacqueline Winspear’s Maisie Dobbs was a housemaid when she was younger. But her employer saw that she was capable and highly intelligent, so she sponsored Maisie’s education. After WW I, Maisie opened her own private investigation business. It’s unusual for those times, but she’s got a helpful, knowledgeable mentor, a supportive sponsor, and a group of friends who help her. As the years (and the series) go on, Maisie continues to be a successful, independent woman. It’s not that she objects to having a family. In fact, she does just that as time goes on. Rather, she’s not the traditional stay-at-home mother who depends on a husband to take care of her. She’s an interesting balance between being of her time and being a modern thinker.

So is Kerry Greenwood’s Phryne Fisher. She has the advantage of a wealthy, privileged background, so she need not depend on a man to provide for her. She’s educated and intelligent, too. She’s set herself up as Melbourne’s ‘lady detective,’ and is quite good at what she does. She’s very independent, too. She’s unapologetic about having an active love life, she makes her own decisions, and she has a full social calendar along with her detective work. She drinks as she sees fit, she attends dinners, parties, dances, and so on without worrying ‘what people will think,’ and comes and goes as she pleases.

In the 1920s, more and more women began to choose professional careers. Some did so in order to meet a husband, but others chose to remain single and kept their focus on their work. Such a person is Christina Lucas, whom we meet in Sarah Waters’ The Paying Guests. She’s a busy freelance typist who makes her own choices in life. She smokes, drinks, and doesn’t worry too much about housekeeping. She doesn’t have children and doesn’t really wish for them. Her former lover, Frances Wray, is wistful about Christina’s independent life. They’re still friends, although Christina’s found someone new, and Frances sees how free Christina is to do as she wishes. Frances, on the other hand, lives with her widowed mother, helps to keep house, and lives a more traditional life. She and her mother have fallen on hard times since WW I and have had to open their home to lodgers. When Len and Lilian Barber move in, it’s hoped that their rent will help solve the Wrays’ financial problems. Instead, the choice to rent to the Barbers has lasting and tragic consequences.

And then there’s Lanie Price, whom we meet in Persia Walker’s Goodfellowe House. The story takes place in 1926 Harlem, where Lanie is a former crime reporter who now writes the society column for the Harlem Chronicle. One day, Lanie gets a visit from Ruth Todd, whom she met when she was a crime reporter. Three years earlier, Ruth’s sister Esther went missing, and Lanie was investigating the case. Nothing much was done, though, since the police weren’t eager to look for ‘just another missing Black woman.’ Besides, Esther was an adult, and she could easily have decided to leave on her own. The case hasn’t been solved, and Ruth is distraught.  So, Lanie agrees to see if she can find out anything new. The case is complex, and some highly placed people don’t want it to be dragged up, so Lanie is up against some serious challenges. But she’s smart, independent, and driven to find answers. She makes her own decisions, and although there’s plenty of racism and sexism in her world, she is determined to find out the truth.

The 1920s ushed in a new kind of independence for women. They didn’t necessarily rush to get married, and many of them smoked, drank, had jobs, and made their own decisions. It was a different world for a lot of women, and it shows if you read crime fiction from and about the era.

*NOTE: The title of this post is a line from John Kander and Fred Ebbs’ Nowadays.