Characters like Ruby Pearshall make me think of all the ways our black bodies often do not feel like our own. This novel made me consider how a women’s agency over her body is at risk still in various places all over the world just like it was years ago. Will that risk ever cease to exist? 

Historical fiction is a genre I struggle with and unfortunately this book reminded of the reasons why that is. However, the last hundred or so pages showed me why it was loved by many. Eleanor’s storyline in comparison to Ruby’s lacked in depth and detail. Near the end, this imbalance works in a peculiar way and Ruby’s arc somewhat makes up for what Eleanor’s lacks. Ruby throughout the book started to feel more three dimensional and layered, whereas Eleanor and William have layers yet to be fully explored.

If you are someone that has not delved into how race, class, and wealth function within the black community, this book does a decent job of helping the reader engage with that. For someone like myself the text doesn’t provide anything new to the conversation, but it did serve its purpose in helping craft Eleanor’s arc. The link between Ruby and Eleanor becomes blatantly obvious, therefore the build up to its reveal leaves much to be desired. Overall, this is a solid look into black womanhood and motherhood, but if the same care put into crafting Ruby was put into everything else it would have made a major difference. 

For those that are intrigued about interracial relationships, the pitfalls of the black bourgeoisie, and the lives of black women in the 50’s, this is the one for you. House of Eve is an ode to every young black girl and black mother who has had to make sacrifices that are hard to follow through with, comprehend, and even harder to forget.