Oh, where to begin with this book? “The Safekeep” by Yael van der Wouden’s debut novel is like… it’s like opening a beautifully preserved old house and finding ghosts in every room. You know the kind I mean? Those stately homes that seem so picture-perfect from the outside, but step inside and suddenly you’re drowning in history, in secrets, in all the things left unsaid.
Set in the Netherlands in the early 1960s, “The Safekeep” takes us into one such house. It’s been fifteen years since World War II ended, but some wounds refuse to heal. Our protagonist, Isabel, lives alone in her family’s country home, clinging to routine like a life raft. Enter Eva, her brother’s new girlfriend, who arrives like a whirlwind to stay for the summer. And just like that, Isabel’s carefully ordered world starts to crumble.
Now, I have to confess – I started this book thinking it was going to be one thing, and it turned out to be something else entirely. In the best possible way, mind you. Van der Wouden lures you in with what seems like a straightforward tale of domestic tension, then pulls the rug out from under you. Before you know it, you’re tumbling down a rabbit hole of hidden identities, wartime trauma, and queer desire.
It’s no wonder Yael van der Wouden’s “The Safekeep” has been longlisted for the 2024 Booker Prize. This is the kind of book that sticks with you, that has you turning it over in your mind days after you’ve finished. It’s a debut that announces van der Wouden as a major new talent, one with a keen eye for the ways the past haunts the present.
A House Built on Secrets
Let’s talk about that house for a moment, shall we? Because in many ways, it’s the heart of the novel. Isabel’s family home becomes almost a character in its own right – full of history, full of memories, full of things that don’t quite add up. Van der Wouden describes it with such vivid detail that you can almost smell the polish on the furniture, hear the creak of the floorboards.
For Isabel, the house is everything. It’s her anchor, her identity, the one constant in a world that’s changed too much. She tends to it obsessively, as if keeping everything in its proper place can somehow keep the past at bay. But Eva’s arrival throws all of that into chaos. Suddenly, objects start disappearing. Rooms feel different. The very walls seem to be hiding secrets.
Van der Wouden builds tension masterfully here. There’s this creeping sense of unease that grows with every page. You start to question everything along with Isabel. Is Eva really who she says she is? What happened in this house during the war? And why does Isabel feel so… unsettled by her houseguest?
Desire and Denial
Now, let’s address the elephant in the room, shall we? Because hoo boy, the tension between Isabel and Eva is… something else. Van der Wouden writes their interactions with such simmering intensity that you half expect the pages to burst into flame. It’s all lingering glances and accidental touches and this electric current of want just under the surface.
What makes it so compelling is how deeply in denial Isabel is about her feelings. She’s spent her whole life repressing any hint of desire, convincing herself she’s content with her solitary existence. Eva’s presence cracks that facade wide open. Watching Isabel grapple with these new, overwhelming feelings is both painful and deeply relatable. Haven’t we all been there at some point? Wanting something so badly but not even having the words to express it?
The slow-burn romance (if you can call it that—it’s far more complex than a simple love story) is beautifully handled. Van der Wouden captures all the aching uncertainty of queer desire in a time and place where it dare not speak its name. It’s tender and raw and sometimes uncomfortably honest.
Ghosts of the Past
But The Safekeep by Yael van der Wouden is about so much more than a summer romance. At its core, this is a novel about the long shadow cast by war. Van der Wouden peels back the layers of Dutch society in the post-war years, revealing the uncomfortable truths many would prefer to forget.
Through Eva’s story (which I won’t spoil here, but trust me, it’s a doozy), we’re forced to confront the reality of what happened to Dutch Jews during the occupation. The casual anti-Semitism, the neighbors who looked the other way, the properties stolen and never returned. It’s a part of history that’s often glossed over, and van der Wouden handles it with unflinching honesty.
What’s particularly striking is how she shows the ways trauma ripples through generations. Isabel, Eva, their families—they’re all shaped by choices made during the war, even if they don’t fully understand how. There’s this sense of inherited guilt, of unresolved grief, that hangs over everything.
A Voice to Remember
Can we talk about Yael van der Wouden’s prose for a moment in The Safekeep? Because hot damn, this woman can write. Her style is… it’s hard to describe. It’s lyrical without being flowery, precise without being cold. She has this knack for zeroing in on small, sensory details that bring a scene vividly to life. The roughness of linen sheets, the smell of ripe fruit, the particular quality of Dutch summer light—it’s all there, making you feel like you’re right there in that house with Isabel and Eva.
And the way she builds atmosphere?. There’s this dreamy, slightly off-kilter quality to her writing that perfectly captures Isabel’s increasingly unmoored state of mind. Reality starts to blur at the edges. Time becomes elastic. You’re never quite sure what’s real and what’s imagined, and it’s utterly captivating.
It’s hard to believe this is a debut novel. Van der Wouden writes with the assurance of a much more seasoned author. Her control of pacing, her deft handling of multiple timelines, her ability to slowly ratchet up tension—it’s all seriously impressive.
A Queer Historical Revelation
Now, I have to say – as someone who devours historical fiction, The Safekeep by Yael van der Wouden feels like a breath of fresh air. So often, stories about queer people in the past are unrelentingly tragic. And while this book certainly has its share of heartbreak, it also allows for moments of joy, of connection, and of possibility.
Van der Wouden gives us a nuanced portrayal of queer desire in a time when it had to remain hidden. The achingly tender moments between Isabel and Eva are all the more powerful for their rarity. There’s a scene where they dance together, alone in the house, that just… it took my breath away. It’s not explicit, but the emotion in it is almost overwhelming.
What I particularly appreciate is how van der Wouden doesn’t shy away from the messiness of it all. Isabel and Eva’s relationship is complicated by power imbalances, by secrets, by the weight of everything left unsaid. It’s not a simple love story, and it’s all the richer for that complexity.
A Few Quibbles
Now, no book is perfect, and I did have a few minor quibbles with “The Safekeep.” The pacing in the middle section can drag a bit, as we cycle through Isabel’s mounting paranoia. And there are moments where the symbolism feels a touch heavy-handed—yes, we get it, the house represents repressed memories, you don’t need to hit us over the head with it.
Some readers might find Isabel a difficult protagonist to warm to, especially in the early chapters. Her rigidity, her casual prejudices, her inability to connect—it can be frustrating. But stick with her. The journey she goes on, both emotionally and in terms of confronting her own complicity in past wrongs, is ultimately very rewarding.
A Haunting Debut
In the end, The Safekeep by Yael van der Wouden is the kind of book that lingers with you long after you’ve turned the final page. It’s a ghost story without any actual ghosts, a mystery where the biggest secrets are the ones we keep from ourselves. Van der Wouden has crafted something truly special here—a novel that’s at once intimately personal and sweepingly historical.
It’s no wonder it’s been longlisted for the Booker Prize. This is the kind of ambitious, thought-provoking fiction that prizes love to champion. It asks big questions about memory, about culpability, about the stories we tell ourselves to get through the day. And it does so through the lens of a love story that’s as fragile as it is powerful.
If this is what van der Wouden can do in her debut, I can’t wait to see what she comes up with next. “The Safekeep” announces her as a major new voice in literary fiction, one unafraid to dig into the messiest, most uncomfortable parts of history and the human heart. It’s a book that deserves to be read, discussed, and remembered. Just don’t blame me if you find yourself looking at your own house a little differently afterwards. Those walls… they hold more secrets than you might think.
