Early 20th century Glasgow provides a rich canvas for David Simons' portrait of his eponymous heroine, a militant feminist whose moral courage finds its expression in the revolutionary sentiments of the time.
There is a gripping tension at the heart of the novel - between a young Jewish woman contained and constrained by patriarchal society yet becoming ever more aware of a world beyond - and also a growing sense of empowerment, "the power of a united force ... of women together."
Initially, the city seems to wrap its sooty fingers around Celia, suffocating her, dragging her back in when it looks like she might escape its grasp. The landscapes are stark and brutal but, against a backdrop of war, poverty and religious intolerance, there is hope, joyous epiphanies to be found. Even in a city known as the `Workshop of the World', grandeur co-exists with grime. Celia's spirit soars every time she crosses the River Clyde from the family home in the Gorbals.
"She loved walking across Glasgow Bridge, passing over the tea-stained slurry of a river that divided the city. It was as if the Clyde formed the boundary to some fantasy land. Those broad thoroughfares, the tall buildings with their fancy facades, the gaudy emporium with their stretched-out awnings, all beckoning her to enter from the dark, soot-clad confines of the Gorbals on the opposite bank. `Come in lass,' the Second City of the British Empire whispered to her. `Don't be afraid. Come in and see the wonders on offer shipped here from our commonwealth of nations.'"
Glasgow may be a harsh, unforgiving city, but it is also one of opportunity. Solly, a young friend of the Kahn family, makes a tidy living from back-street betting; Celia's step-brother Avram - the central protagonist in Simons' first novel The Credit Draper - displays his entrepreneurial spirit by cornering the market in waterproof clothing.
And so as Celia gazes down the sweeping south-side boulevard of Victoria Road she has "a different sense of the city. Not the usual feeling of how it enfolded her, hemmed her him, cast its dark shadow, choked her with its soot and fumes. But how it spread itself out, gorged itself on the life-blood of the river, threw up its shipyards, museums, munitions factories and merchant buildings."
As the narrative shifts between the rat-infested tenements of the Gorbals to the leafy avenues of the West End and beyond the city limits, so Celia grows in self-assurance, her political beliefs transforming into direct action. The tanks roll into George Square and she rages harder against social injustice.
Celia is on a crusade but love and friendship is never far away - in the form of her coterie of fellow feminists or the dashing figure of Jonny Levy, a young Jewish doctor who is drawn to her independent spirit.
The novel's success resides in its balance, its refusal to resort to cliché. Escape is possible and change meaningful. It is an unflinching but uplifting portrait of a society beginning to shift on its axis.