Well hello there, my beautiful bi bookworms! Welcome back to the returning bi-bliophiles — and to those who are new around here, a hearty welcome to you, too!
What does inheritance mean to you? When is a house more than a house? And if you found out about deep family wrongs, how far would you go to correct them to set things right — even if it came at a great personal cost? These are questions at the heart of the 2024 novel The Safekeep, by Dutch author Yael van der Wouden. Big questions, to be sure. But what exactly does any of this have to do with our queer little column? Read on to find out.
But before I get into the nitty-gritty here, I must go over a few important disclaimers. First and foremost, there will be major SPOILERS for this historical drama. Next, I should note some major content warnings, including but not limited to: mentions of the Holocaust, family displacement, family members throwing queer youth out of the house, and racism.
All set? Then let’s settle in.
The Safekeep is a book set in the Dutch countryside in 1961. Not far from Amsterdam lives Isabel Den Brave, one of three children who has essentially become a recluse at the family’s estate they moved into after World War II. One spring day, Isabel’s brother, Louis, asks for Isabel to watch after his girlfriend, a typist named Eva de Haas, while he leaves town for a month for a work conference. Furious for being disturbed and paranoid about everyone, Isabel is suspicious of Eva and how she is making herself at home under the unusual circumstances. However, it comes as a surprise to both Isabel and Eva when they discover an attraction blooming between the two of them.
Something I really liked about The Safekeep is the slow burn of everything, with the author peeling back plot points and character development like onion layers. Isabel tells her side of the story in a very sensory way, navigating her emotions and trying to describe sensations when they are entirely new to her after living a very sheltered life. Van Der Wouden takes great pains to show both Isabel’s slanted, paranoid vantage point as well as evoking great empathy for Eva. While Isabel judges every single thing Eva says and does, the book certainly doesn’t. It reveals a stolen, passionate moment of goodbye between Eva and Louis, showing an attraction even anyone as inexperienced as Isabel can recognize. And it takes the time to show the switch between Isabel and Eva from enemies to lovers in a deliberate, meaningful way.
Regarding Eva’s bisexuality, her attractions to more than one gender may come as a surprise to her, but they are more than clear to the reader (though Van Der Wouden does not use the term “bisexual” in the book, unfortunately). This is perhaps best observed in a scene after Isabel comes back from a reluctant date with an unwanted suitor, her older neighbor Johan, who tried to kiss her at the end of the night:
When Isabel admits that she is unsure how to know whether she wants to kiss someone, Eva tells her that sometimes the only way to find out is to try. She kisses Isabel lightly to prove her point, but the moment quickly becomes more intense, with Eva kissing her again and touching her shoulders and chest. Although Eva tries to explain the encounter by saying that Isabel resembles her brother, her actions make her attraction to Isabel difficult to dismiss.
Later, in a major twist in the book, Isabel opens a private diary Eva was keeping, discovers an inventory of things Eva has nabbed, and kicks her out. Later, when reading the diary further, she discovers that Eva is Jewish, and her family had lived in Isabel’s house before World War II, and before they were ousted and forced to leave everything behind. Her father was taken away by the Nazis and died in a concentration camp, and thus fell behind in paying the mortgage, so the bank re-sold the house to Isabel’s family. After the war, when a teenage Eva and her mother came back to the house to reclaim it, Isabel’s mother shut them out. Eva’s mother died a few years later from medical complications from staying in the camps.
Later, Eva reveals in the diary that she learned Isabel’s brother, Louis, still lives nearby. She dates Louis in order to gain access to the house, hoping to steal back a few family heirlooms unnoticed so that she at least has some semblance of her childhood and family inheritance. What she was not counting on, however, was falling for Isabel while staying there.
Eva’s diary makes it clear that her attraction to Isabel is genuine and emotionally intense, rather than simply part of an attempt to manipulate her. She writes about being unable to stop thinking about their physical intimacy, feeling overwhelmed by guilt and confusion, and even praying for Isabel to lose interest in her. At the same time, she admits that she is deeply drawn to Isabel and affected by the way Isabel looks at and desires her.
Eva is a fully developed bi character, and is far more fascinating than just her queerness. She is charming, smart, observant, kind, funny, and even bubbly when relaxed. She can also be resentful, angry, sarcastic, and show signs of unresolved trauma. One could characterize her as bitter, resentful, and manipulative considering her plan to get back into her family house, but the book does not judge her for it. Van Der Wouden shows that the family tried to get the house back in a more traditional way (both in approaching the residents, as well as trying to plead with the bank) and is empathetic towards Eva’s cause — especially since it is such a large house and she is trying to take back things that were rightfully hers, anyway.
Also, The Safekeep is notable for finding a surprisingly satisfying and happy conclusion for these two queer characters who were so deeply at odds in the beginning of the novel. Eva’s love for Isabel softens Isabel, and her learning about Eva’s wrongful displacement is righted by getting Louis to grant the house to her so that she can give it back to Eva. Eva and Isabel also — after much heated discussion — find each other again and continue their relationship.
The Safekeep reminds readers that bi people have always existed throughout history. That we are whole, lovable people who deserve our own narrative that both honors our sexuality as well as articulates our story beyond that facet — without dismissing it and including it as an important part of our narrative. It is a deeply felt and moving book with a bi main character, and I recommend it without hesitation.