The Safekeep - Yael Van Der Wouden

The Safekeep is set in rural Netherlands, specifically Overijssel, around 1961, in the lingering shadow of World War II. The book opens with a gentle introduction to the characters, where we meet Yael Van Der Wouden’s protagonist, Isabel, and her siblings. This ultimately sets the narrative in motion, though it does have a slow build-up before the first major plot points arrive. We follow Isabel’s journey and her ever-growing connection with Eva, her brother’s girlfriend. When her brother leaves their childhood home for a short business trip, the two girls are left alone for an indefinite amount of time. In that space, their bond deepens, Isabel’s belongings begin to go missing, and a historically rooted emotional truth comes to light. Will it shatter their relationship, or bring them closer together?

It’s a story about control, obsession, and the hidden histories tucked inside a house far more complicated than it first appears. And Van Der Wouden does a lovely job of bringing that vision to life.

Initially, I thought the opening was a bit slow. It took me a few days to properly get into it, and at times I wondered whether this book would be interesting enough for me to keep going. But by the time I’d finished the first third, I was proven very wrong. This became an extremely enthralling read, and I found myself invested in both Isabel and Eva’s lives as if I knew them personally — like I was sitting cross-legged on the carpet, listening to them tell me their story.

Historical novels have never ceased to amaze me. I find military history incredibly engaging, and I genuinely want to know about every second of every year the world wars took place. The subject fascinates me, so when I find a novel set in or around wartime, I know I’m going to enjoy it — and I can’t recommend The Safekeep enough. Not only does it touch on the Holocaust and its devastating effects on Jewish lives, it’s also built around a beautiful love story between two women who, at the time, would never have been able to be open about their relationship. It offers insight into what life was like for queer people when their identities were heavily stigmatized. Because of that, it evoked a kind of fear and heartache I don’t always feel when reading contemporary lesbian romance.

Van Der Wouden captivated me with her complex characters, to the point where the story felt almost entirely character-driven — with the house itself acting as a character too. It symbolizes so many things like: memory, and trauma that tie into the book’s main themes: secrets, and the desire for control. It’s a simple story on the surface, but it carries powerful meaning and delivers heart-stopping twists that pulled me even deeper into their world. I wasn’t taken on a chaotic emotional roller coaster; instead, it felt like drifting down a tender, composed river in a gently bobbing boat that occasionally tugged at my heartstrings. Van Der Wouden writes with a calm, steady hand — short sentences that keep the pace flowing, dialogue that feels true to how people actually speak. And with all its unnerving moments, its sensual scenes, and its elegant bursts of description, it becomes a deeply moving piece of writing.

Overall, I’d give this book 4.5 out of 5 stars. It’s a little slow at the start and not immediately captivating, but once the small conflicts begin — the friction between personalities, beliefs, and buried truths — I was hooked and eager to uncover exactly where these women came from. The Sunday Times calls it “razor-sharp, perfectly plotted… a thrilling story,” and I couldn’t agree more. It’s different, it’s steamy, it’s unlike anything else — and it absolutely deserves the praise. I’m so glad I read it, and I hope you are (or will be) too.

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The Virgin Suicides - Jeffrey Eugenides

Jeffrey Eugenides’ first novel, 'The Virgin Suicides,' follows the tragic lives of five sisters who were the neighbourhoods greatest fascination. From sex to suicide, the Lisbon sisters’ story is told from their neighbours’ points of view—neighbours who kept a watchful eye on their peculiar ways and naturally alluring beauty, deeply investigating why they were all driven to such extremities.

It’s a marvelously written book from start to finish, and it deserves all the praise it’s received. Every sentence was written to perfection, every character felt elaborately created; it felt so real I had to check that it wasn’t based on a true story. Though, according to an article on Yahoo, the story “was inspired by real events after Jeffrey Eugenides came across an article mentioning a group of young girls from California in the 1970s who agreed to make a suicide pact.” And despite its brilliantly formed clauses and phrases, it’s probably the darkest story I’ve read, evoking emotions that I never thought would be evoked so greatly in my life (by a novel at least). He’s sprinkled it with humor and fueled it with information that everybody wants to know. There isn’t a single portion of this book that I felt shouldn’t have been there because I didn’t need to know it. I had to know it. I had to know everything, because just like the boys living on the same street as the Lisbon family, I had questions that I wanted the answers to.

I mean, the description was so powerful it was one of the aspects in this book that propelled me through the story, forcing me to finish it without skipping a single sentence. And there’s plenty of novels out there that I’ve tried to read and tried to enjoy but have miserably failed at doing because the description is too much and way too unnecessary. It’s boring, and I don’t like boring.

Eugenides captivated me completely. He not only raised awareness about an issue that devastates thousands of people today, but he’s brought to light themes of adolescence, repression, and the impact of societal expectations which surround the main idea. And so I found it to be a really riveting read. The plot was strong, which made each turning point in the book a distressing shock, which is the right effect to give as an author considering what the novel is about, on top of ending it the way it should be ended. You may argue with that, but I’m pleased with it. I don’t think it should be changed; not for the world.

I give this intense and delicate story five out of five stars. Every aspect deserves top marks, and I’d read it again just to see if I could piece together anything that I might have missed before. So with that said, yes, I would recommend this novel to almost everybody, unless you’re trying to avoid upsetting topics and sorrowful mysteries. Otherwise, read to your heart’s content. This is a modern classic that any death fanatic would enjoy. It’s intriguing and very eerie, “bold and resonant” from the Independent on Sunday, and intoxicating but not without its heartbreaking subject matter.

By your copy of the book here: https://amzn.eu/d/5LWvoUl