The part of A Room of One’s Own that everybody knows isn’t buried. It’s there on the first page—“a woman must have money and a room of her own if she is to write fiction”—and there again on the last, with more caveats but more ambition: If we get our money and our room, and we work hard enough for long enough, we women may become poets, and we may make poets of all the other women, dead and silenced and anonymous and yet to be born. The book sweeps along its wide imaginative arc and settles