If you’re a fan of historical fiction with a supernatural twist, this one might just pique your interest. Set in the early 1900s, the story follows Adelaide Henry, a Black woman fleeing her troubled past in California for the remote, harsh landscapes of Montana. All she takes with her is a mysterious steamer trunk that she never lets out of her sight—and for good reason. What’s inside is more than a mere possession; it’s a dark secret that Adelaide must confront as she tries to build a new life on the frontier. 

Victor LaValle blends historical fiction and magical realism in a way that brings the Wild West to life while adding an eerie, otherworldly layer. The story explores themes of survival, community, and the burdens we carry, both literal and metaphorical. It’s an intriguing premise, but I have to admit—I’m not the biggest fan of mixing historical fiction with magical realism. While I appreciated the historical backdrop, the supernatural elements gave the story an odd, almost disjointed feel. I suspect that’s what kept me at a bit of a distance, though I can see how other readers might find it compelling. 

One thing I truly appreciated, though, was the book’s symbolism. The “demon” in the story was such a powerful metaphor for the baggage we all carry—whether it’s guilt, grief, or fear—and how confronting it can lead to freedom or destruction, depending on how we approach it. I also loved that the cast of primary characters was almost entirely women, which felt refreshing for a frontier tale. The book touches on issues like gender roles, race, and independence in ways that feel subtle yet impactful. 

A fun tidbit about the author: Victor LaValle is known for his ability to mix horror, fantasy, and social commentary seamlessly, and his novel The Changeling earned him widespread acclaim. LaValle’s knack for crafting stories that feel both timeless and unique shines through in Lone Women, even if the magical realism wasn’t entirely my cup of tea. 

If you enjoy stories that challenge genre conventions and tackle weighty themes with a touch of the supernatural, Lone Women might be worth a read. For me, while it didn’t quite hit all the right notes, I still came away appreciating its creativity and the thought-provoking way it explored what it means to be burdened—and ultimately, unburdened.