You know that feeling when you walk into an old house and the air feels… different? Like the walls are holding their breath, keeping secrets? That’s the atmosphere Yael van der Wouden conjures in her stunning debut novel, “The Safekeep.” It’s a book that creeps up on you, quiet as a cat, before sinking its claws in deep.
Set in the Dutch countryside in the early 1960s, “The Safekeep” is a slow-burn psychological drama that excavates the lingering trauma of World War II. Van der Wouden peels back layers of hidden history with the precision of an archaeologist, revealing how the past can haunt us in ways we don’t even realize.
At its core, this is a story about belonging—to a place, to a family, to oneself. Who has the right to call a house “home”? What happens when the foundations we’ve built our lives on turn out to be lies? Van der Wouden tackles these weighty questions with a light touch, wrapping them in a hypnotic tale of desire and deception.
Oh, and did I mention it’s been longlisted for the 2024 Booker Prize? Not too shabby for a debut, right? But trust me, this book would be worth your time even without the fancy accolades. Let’s dig in, shall we?
A House Divided
Picture this: It’s 1961, and Isabel lives alone in her family’s sprawling country home in the eastern Netherlands. She’s the very model of Dutch propriety—prim, proper, and possessed of an almost obsessive need for order. Her days revolve around keeping the house just so, each object in its prescribed place. It’s a life of quiet routine, until her brother Louis drops a bomb in the form of his new girlfriend, Eva.
Eva is everything Isabel isn’t—loud, messy, prone to staying up late and sleeping even later. She touches things without permission and generally throws Isabel’s carefully ordered world into chaos. Worse still, she’s set to stay for the whole summer while Louis is away on business.
Van der Wouden perfectly captures that simmering tension of having an unwelcome houseguest. You know the feeling—when someone’s mere presence in your space sets your teeth on edge? That’s Isabel and Eva’s relationship in a nutshell. At first, anyway.
Because here’s where things get interesting: As the summer heat rises, so does the temperature between these two women. What starts as animosity slowly, almost imperceptibly, shifts into something… else. Attraction? Obsession? It’s deliciously hard to pin down.
Meanwhile, things keep disappearing around the house. A spoon here, a knick-knack there. Isabel’s paranoia spirals. Is Eva a thief? Or is there something else going on entirely?
I don’t want to spoil too much, but let’s just say the truth, when it finally emerges, is far more complex and heartbreaking than simple theft. Van der Wouden pulls off a masterful twist that recontextualizes everything that’s come before. It’s the kind of reveal that’ll have you immediately wanting to flip back to page one and start over with fresh eyes.
Ghosts of the Past
While The Safekeep by Yael van der Wouden works beautifully as a claustrophobic psychological drama, it’s also a potent exploration of how the trauma of World War II continued to reverberate through Dutch society long after the fighting ended.
The war itself is never directly depicted. Instead, we see its aftereffects in the gaps and silences, the things left unsaid. It’s there in the way Isabel clings to routine like a life raft. It’s there in Eva’s restless energy, her need to touch and claim. It’s there in the very walls of the house, which hold more history than its current occupants realize.
Van der Wouden deftly weaves in historical details about the Dutch experience of the war and its aftermath. The hunger winter of 1944-45. The complexities of the postwar housing crisis. The often-bungled attempts at restitution for Jewish families. It’s clear she’s done her research, but it never feels didactic. Instead, these elements are seamlessly integrated into the fabric of the story.
There’s a particular focus on the experiences of Dutch Jews who survived the Holocaust, only to return home and find their property occupied by others. It’s a facet of history that doesn’t get explored often enough in fiction, and Van der Wouden handles it with sensitivity and nuance.
A Queer Awakening
At its heart, “The Safekeep” is also a queer love story – albeit an unconventional one. The slow-burn attraction between Isabel and Eva is exquisitely rendered. Van der Wouden captures all the confusion, longing, and self-discovery of a woman experiencing same-sex desire for the first time.
There’s a particularly gorgeous scene where Isabel helps Eva dye her hair. The intimacy of the moment, the hyper-awareness of skin and touch—it’s electric. You can practically feel the charge in the air.
But this isn’t some idyllic sapphic romance. The path to love is complicated by guilt, resentment, and the weight of history. Van der Wouden doesn’t shy away from the messier aspects of attraction and the harm we can do to those we desire.
It’s worth noting that while the book is set in the early 60s, it doesn’t deal much with period-specific homophobia. The obstacles to Isabel and Eva’s relationship are more internal and interpersonal. Some readers might find this ahistorical, but I appreciated the choice to focus on the women’s emotional journey rather than external prejudices.
A Voice to Watch
“The Safekeep” is Yael van der Wouden’s debut novel, and what a debut it is. Her prose is luminous and precise, with an almost hypnotic quality. She has a knack for sensory details that bring scenes vividly to life—the creak of a floorboard, the play of sunlight through leaves, the musty smell of old linens.
The pacing is deliberate, allowing tension to build slowly but inexorably. Some readers might find it a touch slow in the early chapters, but stick with it. The payoff is well worth it.
Van der Wouden’s background as a poet shines through in her lyrical descriptions and keen eye for resonant images. There’s a passage about Isabel obsessively polishing silverware that’s practically a poem in itself.
While this is her first novel, Van der Wouden has previously published a collection of short stories, “How to Ties Your Shoes.” Based on the strength of “The Safekeep,” I’ll definitely be seeking that out.
In terms of comparable titles, “The Safekeep” shares some DNA with Sarah Waters’ “The Little Stranger” – both feature crumbling country houses with secrets to uncover. There are also echoes of Daphne du Maurier’s “Rebecca” in its atmosphere of simmering psychological tension.
A Few Quibbles
No book is perfect, and The Safekeep by Yael van der Wouden does have a few minor issues. The pacing in the middle section can drag a bit, with perhaps one too many scenes of Isabel puttering around the house. And while the central twist is brilliant, some of the smaller revelations feel a touch predictable.
There’s also a subplot involving Isabel’s neighbor Johan that never quite clicks into place. It feels like it’s there mainly to create a counterpoint to her attraction to Eva, but it’s underdeveloped.
These are small complaints, though, in the face of everything the novel gets right.
The Verdict
The Safekeep by Yael van der Wouden is a remarkable achievement—a debut novel of astonishing assurance and depth. Van der Wouden has crafted a story that works on multiple levels: as a psychological thriller, as a queer awakening tale, and as an exploration of historical trauma.
It’s the kind of book that lingers with you long after you turn the final page. I found myself thinking about it for days, turning over its themes and implications. It’s also eminently re-readable. I suspect you’ll discover new layers and connections on a second pass.
The Booker Prize longlist nod is well-deserved, in my opinion. “The Safekeep” more than holds its own against works by more established authors. It’ll be interesting to see if it makes the shortlist cut.
Whether or not it takes home the big prize, this book cements Van der Wouden as a major new voice in literary fiction. I, for one, can’t wait to see what she does next.
So, should you read it? Absolutely. Just maybe don’t start it right before bed. You might find yourself up all night, unable to leave the walls of that haunted Dutch farmhouse. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.