Desire and Possession
“A house is a precious thing.” These words appear in an early chapter of the engrossing novel The Safekeep (Simon & Schuster, $28.99) by Dutch-Israeli author Yael van der Wouden. It is a simple declaration that means more than the reader initially comprehends, as van der Wouden weaves a powerful tale of possession and passion in postwar Europe.
I was an admirer of van der Wouden’s fiction in the Jewish Book Council’s Paper Brigade before I cracked open this stunning debut novel, and it did not disappoint. In The Safekeep, van der Wouden portrays a forbidden romance between two women, Isabel and Eva. In 1961, Isabel lives a solitary life governed by rigid routines and emotional restraint. She has no friends to speak of. In fact, she has little human contact aside from her young maid Neelke and a brutish neighbor and would-be suitor named Johan. Her one true love is her house in the Dutch countryside, one her uncle found for her mother and two brothers towards the end of the war. Now that her mother has died and her brothers are living their own lives, Isabel views the house as her sacred responsibility, and she cares for it meticulously with a near-religious fervor.
Everything changes when her womanizing brother Louis introduces his new girlfriend, Eva. Isabel dislikes Eva immediately for reasons of class and temperament. Isabel notices Eva’s “violently peroxided bob” and “badly made dress.” Moreover, Eva possesses the qualities Isabel finds repulsive: a seemingly carefree nature and an ease with people (and with men, in particular).
Soon after their first encounter, Louis informs Isabel that Eva will be staying in the house for a month while he’s away on business. Though Isabel inhabits and cares for the house, their uncle has promised the home to Louis. Thus Isabel has no authority to refuse the intrusion. And when Eva moves in, she turns Isabel’s insular, orderly world upside down. Isabel loathes Eva’s presence and rebuffs her attempts at friendship. While Isabel insists her mother’s room is off limits, Eva refuses to stay anywhere else. She even has the audacity to put up a photo of her own mother. Strangely, objects in the home begin to disappear. Isabel keeps a detailed inventory of missing items, suspecting the maid of stealing.
As the tension builds, Isabel’s unease with her unwanted housemate grows into an obsession. And finally, with one furtive kiss, Eva breaks through Isabel’s defenses and unleashes a want Isabel never knew she possessed. But as Isabel feeds her lust, there are troubling signs that Eva may not be as carefree as she first appeared. She’s plagued by vicious night terrors and remarks that she has no family or resources.
With expert pacing and elegant prose, van der Wouden develops the relationship between the two women, as well as the mystery of who Eva really is. The sex scenes are among the most sensuous I have ever read. As Isabel awakens next to Eva, she writes, “The shadows lifted as though they’d only been glimpsed under the hem of a skirt—the lift on an arm, secrets of the body that only unfolded for the night.” Beneath Isabel’s unbending and standoffish exterior, van der Wouden conveys a deep loneliness and hunger for connection. Once Eva gives her a taste of that connection, she no longer wants to repress it. For her part, Eva, too, finds her own plans unraveling as her attraction to Isabel intensifies.
In the last third of the book, Isabel at last learns the truth about Eva, upending all she has ever known about her family and the house she loves. In revealing Eva’s past, van der Wouden reminds us that Europe’s Jews were not victimized only by the Nazis, but also by neighbors and ordinary citizens who took possession of the homes and belongings they left behind. The author asks us to contemplate what these possessions might have meant, the secrets they may hold. Ultimately, the novel offers hope of redemption for its two memorable characters, whose desire blossoms into something deeper. And I, as a reader, was left wanting more from this remarkable new voice.
Kate Schmier is a writer from Metro Detroit who lives in New York City.
