A Personal Awakening

I cannot stress enough how much the Booker Prize and International Booker Prize have influenced and shaped my literary journey over the years. As recently as 2016, I barely had any iota about the significance of the prestigious literary prize. Nearly a decade thence, it has become an integral part of my reading journey. Through it, I was introduced to some of the most amazing writers across the globe whose oeuvres have gradually grown on me. Take the case of Salman Rushdie’s Midnight’s Children, a book I first encountered through must-read lists. Back then, I wasn’t aware that it was recognized as the Booker of Bookers. While I had read works of Rushdie before reading it, Midnight’s Children was instrumental in my appreciation of his entire body of work. It was also through the Booker Prize that I was introduced to equally prominent writers such as Anne Enright, A.S. Byatt, Iris Murdoch, Michael Ondaatje, J.M. Coetzee, Ben Okri, and Margaret Atwood, among others.

Apart from opening the doors to highly-heralded and prominent writers for me, the Booker Prize also introduced me not only to me but to the rest of the world’s rising literary stars who in the upcoming years would build prolific careers. Since its inception, six debut novels have been awarded the Booker Prize. The first debut novel to win the award was New Zealander Keri Hulme’s The Bone People which wrested the 1985 Prize. The most recent debut novel to win the award was Douglas Stuart’s Shuggie Bain. Arundathi Roy’s The God of Small Things won the Prize in 1997 and immediately established itself as a literary classic and one of the most celebrated literary masterpieces out there. The victory also elevated the Indian writer to global recognition. Without a doubt, the Booker Prize is a springboard for many a writer’s success.

Staying true to its thrust of recognizing rising literary talents, the Booker Prize longlisted three debut novels in 2024. Among these three books was Yael Van Der Wouden’s The Safekeep. The only debut novel to make it to the shortlist, The Safekeep transports us to 1960s rural Netherlands, particularly to the province of Overijssel. The novel’s main action takes place in a large stately home occupied by one woman, the twenty-seven-year-old Isabel. The house hasn’t always been desolate; it once teemed with the energy of Isabel’s two brothers, Hendrik and Louis. Isabel’s brothers have since moved on and settled elsewhere. Isabel, on the other hand, felt a strong connection with the house. She made it her personal crusade to look after the house. Following their mother’s demise after an illness, she continued to live in the cavernous house, occasionally disrupted by the presence of her maid Neelke. 

She was not wanted. That was the long and the short of it: she had learned want, briefly and hungrily. A span of a day, two days. She had learned the shape of it, the quick taste of it. She had reached out, foolishly, and she was not wanted in return.

  Yael Van Der Wouden, The Safekeep

Isabel looked after the house like it was her own child. She ensured that its lawns were well-manicured, all her family’s things were kept in immaculate condition, and that none of the objects in the household were stolen or misplaced. Over time, the house became an extension of Isabel. She knew it was every nook and cranny like the back of her hand. So attuned she was to the beating and the presence of the house that she could tell when something was out of place or something was missing. And we, the readers, feel this indelible connection between the house and Isabel. In a way, the house was the enduring symbol of Isabel and Isabel was the personification of the house. Isabel’s life was highly regimented, anchored on the silent thrum of routine and the mundane. Nevertheless, she finds solace and comfort in the uneventfulness of routine.

When Isabel found balance and harmony in her solitary existence, external forces threatened to disrupt it. Isabel’s relationship with her brothers was opposite poles. She was close to Hendrik but her relationship with Louis has been frail, to say the least. Imagine her surprise when Louis suddenly popped out of nowhere. Stringing along with Louis was his girlfriend Eva; she was the latest in a series of girlfriends. Isabel was both perplexed and appalled by the sheer audacity of her brother who was absent during the time their mother was slowly fading to death. Appalled turned into horror when Louis left Eva in his sister’s company for the summer season. Isabel, however, had no recourse because the house was under her carefree brother’s name. On the other hand, Louis had to go out of town for business. Isabel found herself an unwilling participant. This was just the tip of the iceberg.

As the two women were left to their devices, it became increasingly apparent that Eva was the antithesis of the organized Isabel. Isabel was fixated on order, even keeping an inventory of all the things in the household. Meanwhile, the house’s guest was irreverent and impulsive, constantly irritating Isabel and pushing her well beyond her threshold. Being Louis’ girlfriend was bad enough but her attitude further earned Isabel’s dislike of her. It did not help that Eva did the single most offensive thing in Isabel’s eyes, sleeping in Isabel’s mother’s bedroom. Isabel held the room sacrosanct and kept anyone from sleeping there. But Eva was tenacious, throwing Isabel’s well-curated life into a tailspin. Eva was pushing Isabel’s buttons, placing frown marks on the usually composed mistress of the house. Isabel was thrown off course by the unexpected invasion of privacy. Eva’s presence was stripping her of the veneer of safety and comfort that were once provided by her solitary and mundane existence.

The tension – it was subtle but it was present – between the two women further escalated the longer they were around each other. Eva kept pushing Isabel’s buttons. The tension further escalated when objects in the house began to disappear. Petty items such as a spoon, a knife, and a bowl were no longer where they were supposed to be. These disappearances started feeding Isabel’s paranoia. Eva’s nonchalance and irreverence further fueled Isabel’s – or Isa as she is fondly referred to – suspicions. Was this deliberate? As the story moves forward, one can sense that Eva’s presence was not only pushing Isa’s thresholds and patience but it was also shedding new light on Isa. Eva was opening new doors that even Isa was not aware existed before. Eva was, in a way, a catalyst that was unpeeling layers of Isa’s character. Their forced proximity was, without design, pushing into the fore new dimensions of Isa’s personality.

The lake was new, a slow end of the river that had been widened by a bomb; a crater that filled up, connected itself with the river over time. Along the grassy shores: young people. Girls walking along the water’s edge in two-pieces, boys jumping in from a makeshift plank; someone had made a campfire for roasting; someone had brought a radio and turned it on loud.

Yael van der Wouden, The Safekeep

Isabel is a psychologically complex character who singlehandedly loomed above the story. She is a compelling literary creation and one of the novel’s loftiest achievements. At the onset, she was a puzzle waiting to be deciphered. After years of experiencing loss and being left behind, she found comfort in solitude. To the rest of the world, she projects a cold and withdrawn persona. She had a penchant for keeping everyone at arm’s length, including the men who pursued her. From the onset, she was unlikable and van der Wouden encouraged this dislike; the language around her matched her personality. She was a social outcast. Hendrik’s occasional visits soften her. This sets the reader to unravel what one initially perceives as an unlikable character. The steely façade was a veneer born from a childhood marked by losses and abandonment. However, this veneer belies a yearning, a desire to be unlocked.

The catalyst for the unraveling of Isabel was, palpably, Eva. Eva was loosening Isa’s stranglehold into order. Eva was awakening something in Isa as Isa was learning more about herself. But the story was more than just Isa’s individual awakening. Always keen of her surroundings, Isa’s sensory awareness soon shifts to the other woman in the house. The tension that enveloped their initial interactions slowly swirled into a sexually charged atmosphere. One who pays attention to the details can already surmise how it is going to turn out. The predictability, nevertheless, was redeemed by the middle section of the novel. It was fraught with intense but evocatively captured sex scenes. The sexual tension between Isa and Eva was pulsating and electric. This was brilliantly woven by van der Wouden into a lush tapestry and is illustrated mainly through Isa’s growing awareness of Eva’s presence.

As sensuality permeates the air, new revelations come to light. At the heart of it was the house. It was the true heart of the story. The story of the house introduces a different layer to the story, a layer that van der Wouden masterfully wove into the story. When Isabel’s family first moved there, it was during wartime. Through her uncle Karel’s resourcefulness, the family was able to acquire the house that we, later on, learn was once the home of a Jewish family. But the house had a story of its own. Along with the objects it housed, it held secrets. The house, with van der Wouden’s brilliant strokes, transformed into the novel’s most prominent metaphor. It alludes to events that transpired during the Second World War. The War wasn’t that too long ago but it seems that the Dutch have already moved forward and shirked memories of it. During the war, not only were Jews – the author is Jewish – sent to concentration camps, but their properties were also seized and appropriated by non-Jewish communities during and after the Holocaust.

She kept a torch next to her bed, always, and let it guide her way down the stairs in a bright circle of light. There was no one standing at the front door, no one standing at the back door. The garden stared back at her, blues and grays, asleep. A breeze pulled at the hem of her nightgown. The arms of the lilac shrub swayed.

Yael van der Wouden, The Safekeep

“Every house has a history,” Uncle Karel once utters, almost dismissively. “What house doesn’t have a history?” Isabel’s house was brimming with Jewish cutlery, clothes, and other household items, relics of a time long forgotten. These seemingly mundane objects carried with them the weight of their original owners. This is the crux of the story because Isabel feels possessive of them and the house. Interestingly, van der Wouden’s approach to highlighting this phase of history deviates from how it is typically depicted. Major Holocaust literature is fixated on more material forms of financial dispossession such as businesses and gold. This makes it even more personal as each item – spoons, knives, diaries – is often overlooked but they have witnessed the same trauma as the more palpable dispossessed items. Isabel’s sense of possession contrasts with the dispossession and displacement that the Jews experienced during the war.

The finer elements of the novel were woven together into a cohesive whole by van der Wouden’s taut writing. She commanded the story and the descriptive quality of her writing made up for an atmospheric read. The quality of the narrative adds to the swirl of emotions – anxiety, volatility, stiffness – that pervades the story. It captured the contours both of the house – which was a character of its own – and the psychological profiles of the characters. The novel’s structure was another brilliant stroke. It was a steady and calculated revelation that reeled the readers in. With each piece fitted together, the story deepens. It also adds a layer of mystery. A cathartic moment toward the end of the story provides a glimpse as to how the book’s title was derived. The story’s conclusion was a stark contrast to its somber start. The conclusion brimmed with hope and new beginnings.

Overall, The Safekeep is a compelling debut from a rising literary star. It is multilayered and multifaceted. Its elements were astutely crafted by van der Wouden. Isabel was a riveting character, the novel’s finest achievement. It was fascinating reading how the armor she built around herself was slowly cracked open. The story behind her isolation was as compelling as her unraveling. But The Safekeep does not reduce itself to a mere exploration of the intricacies of identity and sexual awakening. The weight of history and legacies of the war loomed, captured in sepia-tinted images by seemingly mundane objects that proliferate the story. These overlying themes were propped up by the exploration of a plethora of themes such as loneliness and anger, loss and yearning, and childhood memories. It is also a story about the lies that we tell ourselves and the beauty of finding connection despite the gloom. The Safekeep is a gem of a book deserving of the accolades it has received.

She wanted to seal him in something, wanted to cover him in hard meatal, him and her together: hidden and forgotten and underground. Airplanes whistled overhead and nothing was allowed to touch him. She thought that might have been joy, or something like it. Something that feels sad as much as it feels like love.

Yael van der Wouden, The Safekeep
Book Specs

Author: Yael Van Der Wouden
Publisher: Viking
Publishing Date: 2024
No. of Pages: 258
Genre: Historical, LGBTQ, Literary

Synopsis

It’s been fifteen years since the Second World War and the rural Dutch province of Overijssel is quiet. Bomb crates have been filled, buildings reconstructed and the conflict is well and truly over. Alone in her late mother’s country home, Isabel lives her life as it should be: led by routine and discipline. But all is upended when her brother Louis delivers his graceless new girlfriend, Eva, at Isabel’s doorstep, as a guest – there to stay for the season…

Eva is Isabel’s antithesis: she sleeps late, wakes late, walks loudly through the house and touches things she shouldn’t. In response, Isabel develops a fury-fuelled obsession, and when things start disappearing around the house – a spoon, a knife, a bowl – Isabel’s suspicions spiral out of control. In the sweltering heat of summer, Isabel’s paranoia gives way to desire, leading to a discovery that unravels all she has ever known. The war might not be well and truly over after all, and neither Eva nor the house are what they seem.

About the Author

Yael van der Wouden was born in 1987 in Tel Aviv-Yafo, Israel. She studied comparative literature at Utrecht University and State University of New York (SUNY) Binghamton. Her work has appeared in publications including LitHub, Electric Literature, Elle.com, The Sun Magazine, Barrelhouse Magazine, and The Jewish Book Council, amongst others. In 2018, she published the essay On (Not) Reading Anne Frank which was listed as a notable in Best American Essays 2018.

Van der Wouden also wrote short stories, some of which have been nominated for Best of the Net, Best Small Fictions, and the Pushcart Prize. In 2024, she published her debut novel, The Safekeep, which was shortlisted for the Booker Prize, making it the first book written by a Dutch writer to be shortlisted for the prestigious literary prize. Apart from writing, van der Wouden is also a teacher. She taught literature at Maastricht University, CES and Utrecht University. In 2021 and 2022, she headed Utrecht University’s Creative Fiction and Non-Fiction summer school.