My goodness, Bloomsbury was a broadminded place. Most people would surely be deeply disturbed at the idea of a young woman marrying her father's longtime male lover.

From the standpoint of art alone, I think Vanessa Bell was cheated of fame, recognitionn, money, etc. She and Duncan Grant painted together, but Grant got most of the accolades. I think her work was just as good or better.
She was the heart and soul of Charleston, and created an atmosphere where friendship and creativity flourished. The complex situation re love affairs brought both happiness and tragedy. Roger Fry loved Vanessa, but she rejected him for Bell, and then fell in love with Grant who preferred men physically, but stayed with her for her whole life as a painting partner and soul mate. There was rivalry of a sort between Vanessa and Virginia, because Virginia felt the lack of motherhood in her life, and envied Vanessa her wholesomeness, her children and the gaiety and beauty of her home.
It is interesting that the Bloomsbury group seems to have managed to rise above sexual jealousy, and remain friends with ex spouses and lovers.
Judging from the biography and her letters, I think Vanessa was a more human and warmer, more loving person than Virginia. However, the fact that Virginia did not recognize her lesbianism early and was not able to live openly with her lover Vita Sackville-West as Vanessa lived with Grant must account for some of the difference in affect. Angelica Bell's bitter book "Betrayed with Kindness" shows how difficult it was for her to recognize that her father was Duncan Grant, and she went ahead and married his former lover David Garnett. Bisexuality was certainly rampant there. ( )

Why VB put up with fellows like Duncan Grant is a mystery to me. She deserved better but usually got the dregs, etc. Vanessa was never quite the same when her oldest son Julian died in Spain. Her second son wrote a very good biography of his famous aunt. And the art critic Julian Bell is her grandson, or great grandson. I'm too tired to look it up. ( )

A fine biography that truly fleshed out a Bloomsbury hardy who I knew relatively little about beyond being Virginia Woolf’s sister, and participating in a complicated triangular love relationship, and of course the co-creator of Charleston. This biography fills out the capacity she had for friendship, for relationships generally, her strength and her vulnerability, openness and insularity. On some levels she and Virginia were almost like oil and water, but a better metaphor is probably oil and vinegar – which are separate and yet complement each other perfectly. Neither could have survived well without the other at times in their lives, although of course Vanessa had to live without Virginia ultimately, but by then having lost a son, she had hardened herself. ( )