Who Owns a Story? Uncovering the Archives of Amy Levy

In November 2025, the University of Cambridge purchased and promptly unsealed the previously private papers of Anglo-Jewish author Amy Levy. Levy was a trailblazer in her time for writing openly about Jewish identity during the Victorian era. For over a century, Levy’s letters and writing fragments have remained in private hands, inaccessible to scholars and readers alike. Now, with scholars unpacking boxes for study, another question has emerged: Who owns a woman’s story once she is gone? And who should be allowed to read her personal writings?

The question of ownership and privacy is especially pertinent given Levy’s short life, as she died by suicide at the age of twenty-seven. She wrote with an acute sense of her positionality outside of the norm for the era—she was Jewish, queer, intellectually ambitious, and struggled with deafness towards the end of her life, all in a societal era where women were largely objectified and ignored. 

Should her writings remain private, as they might touch on some of her personal struggles with depression? Or was it right to unseal them for public review with the aim of introducing new readers to her worldviews and perhaps sharing her rebellious wisdom?

Cambridge’s acquisition is more than just a scholarship milestone—it’s a moment that touches on questions of identity and experience, probing into what it means to be a Jewish woman over time, exploring how intersecting identities shape this experience, and how societies treat such women. While one argument could suggest that Levy is offered more dignity through privacy, there is also the argument to be had that her rebellious writing does not deserve to languish privately, but should be appreciated by the wider world. Deeper to this point, up until recently, the academic field was very much restricted to white males, limiting the opportunity of women to access these records. 

Little was known about the origin or content of the papers until they were purchased in November by the University of Cambridge. Dr. Susan David Bernstein, a scholar who has extensively studied Amy Levy, said, “As a scholar who viewed this archive when privately owned and housed in Kent, I don't expect there is anything in the collection now at Cambridge University Library that I haven't seen. But this new home for Amy Levy's papers is wonderful news because now all who wish to read this material will have proper access from a university archive.”

Indeed, the seclusion of these works until now in many ways parallels the seclusion of Levy herself in the Victorian era. Despite her prowess as a writer, her work was critiqued within Jewish communities by leaders who were concerned about the content of her works. Simultaneously, as a woman, she would hardly have been granted the freedom to navigate public spaces that men of the time were. Following her death and without publication of the papers, this meant that, other than her few published works, the general public did not have additional information or means to understand Levy. 

With these new papers, however, comes a new window into Levy’s world. Dr. Bernstein noted that among what has been newly unsealed, “There are so many papers that enrich our understanding of Levy's London life. One excellent item is Levy's 1889 calendar of her daily life from January until just before her death in September of that year. A wealth of details about her travels, her writing and publications, her social engagements with family, friends, and with prominent writers, including Oscar Wilde, Olive Schreiner, Vernon Lee, Mona Caird, Thomas Hardy, and Grant Allen.”

There is also insight into how Levy perceived herself, with Dr. Bernstein highlighting one artistic piece within the archives, “One self-portrait, titled 'Ye Newnham Women,' spotlights this first Jewish student at Newnham, legs crossed, in a Cambridge gown, smoking a pipe, a picture of two pugilists on the wall and other accessories around the room often associated with men.” This subversion of traditional gender norms of the time in these private documents presents new areas for study, Dr. Bernstein suggests: “Access to the archive will nourish many new directions for Levy scholarship, including nonbinary and transgender perspectives.”

Despite the obvious benefits that the newfound accessibility of these papers lends to scholars, there is a gravity to these papers that must not be taken lightly. Being a Jewish woman in any era is complex. Being a queer Jewish woman in the Victorian era who struggles with depression and experiences deafness later in life is no less the case. Taking Levy’s lessons of bravery to heart can allow readers to carry her legacy as a Jewish feminist forward and continue the long chain of women who have spent their lives in pursuit of meaning-making in ways that resonate with them.