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Verdict: The closest living relative Fingersmith has — a 1961 Dutch house, an unwanted guest, a mid-book reversal that reorganises everything before it, and the most explicit sex to appear in a Booker-shortlisted novel in years.
Best for: Readers who want obsession that curdles into desire, a house that functions as a suspect, and a historical reckoning that arrives through the bedroom rather than around it.
Heat level: ★★★★★ (4.5/5 — explicit, extended and central; romance.io lists it with no steam band assigned)
Rating: ★★★★☆ (4.2/5 — a 4.05 Goodreads average across 156,000 ratings, and the 2025 Women’s Prize for Fiction)
Tropes: Enemies to lovers, forced proximity, obsession, unlikeable heroine, a house as inheritance, buried history, slow burn into explicit heat, class and property, sapphic awakening, HEA.
The Safekeep by Yael van der Wouden is a standalone 2024 debut — literary historical fiction rather than historical lesbian romance — in which Isabel keeps her dead mother’s house in the Dutch countryside exactly as it was, counting the spoons, until her brother deposits his girlfriend Eva there for the summer and Isabel begins keeping a list of what goes missing.
It holds a 4.05 average across roughly 156,000 Goodreads ratings and 4.23 on StoryGraph, it was shortlisted for the Booker Prize in 2024 and won the Women’s Prize for Fiction in 2025, and Kirkus starred it and called it nearly perfect. It is also, at 272 pages, one of the two shortest books on this list and the one readers finish in two sittings.
What Is The Safekeep About?
This is the Netherlands in 1961, sixteen years after the war, in a country that has decided not to discuss how certain houses changed hands. That sentence is the entire novel and van der Wouden does not say it out loud until she has to. The setting is rural Overijssel, a house full of inherited objects, and a family that moved into it in 1944 without asking too many questions about the people who left.
Isabel is the narrator, and she is not built to be liked. She is rigid, suspicious, contemptuous of almost everyone, and completely fused to a house she does not legally own — her brother Louis will inherit it. When Louis installs his girlfriend Eva for the summer, Isabel responds the way she responds to everything: surveillance. She counts the cutlery. She notes the missing spoon, the moved plate, the chipped saucer. What the book does with that watching, and how quickly loathing turns out to have been something else, is the first of its two engines. The second is what Eva is actually doing there.
What Makes This Sapphic Gothic Work
- The house: Reviewers reach for Rebecca and for Sarah Waters, and the comparison is earned — the rooms, the objects and the inventory of them are the plot rather than the backdrop.
- Isabel: Kirkus, the Lesbrary and half a dozen reader reviews independently describe her as cold, spiky and hard to live with, and all of them treat that as the achievement rather than the flaw.
- The reversal: Even readers who guessed it early report that the payoff lands, because the book is not hiding a fact so much as forcing you to re-read every scene that preceded it.
- The prose: The New York Times called the writing fine and taut and said nothing in the book is gratuitous. Kirkus starred it as a brilliant debut, as multifaceted as a gem.
- The heat: The sexual content is the most-flagged element on StoryGraph by a wide margin, and it is doing thematic work rather than decorating the book — desire and revulsion running on the same track.
Book Synopsis
Isabel lives alone in her late mother’s house and considers this a permanent arrangement. She keeps the garden, keeps the rooms, keeps a running mental inventory of everything the house contains, and endures a suitor she has no interest in. Her older brother Louis, who will actually inherit the place, treats it as a base to visit between women. Her other brother Hendrik is not welcome to bring the man he lives with.
Then Louis announces that Eva will be staying for the summer. Eva is loud, careless with other people’s things, wears too much perfume and touches the furniture. Isabel loathes her on sight and settles into a campaign of silent observation — and things do start disappearing. A spoon. A plate. A comb. Isabel keeps count, and the counting curdles into something that watches Eva’s throat and her hands and the back of her neck.
What Isabel does not know, and what the reader is invited to work out at roughly the same speed she does, is why Eva chose this house. The answer is sitting in the cellar, in the family’s paperwork, and in the year 1944 — and by the time it surfaces, Isabel has already stopped being able to tell the difference between wanting Eva gone and wanting her.
My Review
If you have been looking for the book that does what Fingersmith does, this is it — and it does it in 272 pages instead of 600. The structure is the same trick: a first half that trains you to read the situation one way, then a reveal that does not contradict what you read so much as re-file it, so that the second half is spent going back over scenes you already have. Van der Wouden is a debut novelist and she has the nerve to hinge an entire book on that, which is the most impressive thing here.
Isabel is the second reason. She is genuinely unpleasant company — mean about her brother’s boyfriend, contemptuous of the housekeeper, obsessive about objects she does not own — and the novel never softens her to buy your sympathy. What it does instead is let you feel the exact moment surveillance turns into appetite, and it is one of the best-written turns of that kind I have read. Kirkus starred it, the New York Times praised the taut writing, the Booker shortlisted it and the Women’s Prize gave it the 2025 award, and on the level of craft the consensus is unusually solid.
The complaints are real but narrower than usual. The most common is that the twist is guessable — readers report clocking it within the first fifty pages, and a few call it too neat and too obviously constructed. A second thread objects to the sex: not to its existence but to its density, with readers arguing that one scene follows another without the build to earn it, and at least one reviewer naming Chapter 10 specifically. There is a more serious critical objection worth reporting, from a Dutch outlet: that the restitution plot is structurally subordinated to a predetermined romantic ending, which blunts the historical reckoning it sets up. And Eva is thinner than Isabel — several readers finish the book feeling they never really met her.
One expectation to set rather than reset, because this one runs the opposite way to everything else on this list. The Safekeep is explicit. StoryGraph’s readers have flagged sexual content more than two hundred times, far ahead of any other warning on the book, and reviewers describe scenes that startled them in a literary novel. It is also, unlike almost every other book here, a story where the two women end up together — the last pages are the two of them in the house, in the snow, and it is unambiguously hopeful. If you came from Waters braced for punishment, this is the one that does not.
My honest note: The best sapphic historical novel published this decade, and the only book on this list I would hand to someone who said they wanted another Fingersmith. It is short, it is filthy, it is about property and guilt, and it lets them keep each other.
| Element | In The Safekeep |
|---|---|
| Central relationship | Isabel & Eva — a woman who counts the spoons and the guest she is certain is stealing them |
| Core tropes | Enemies to lovers, forced proximity, obsession, unlikeable heroine, buried history, house as inheritance, class and property |
| Setting | Rural Overijssel, the Netherlands, summer 1961 — a house the family moved into in 1944 |
| Heat level | 4.5/5 — explicit, extended and thematically central; romance.io lists it with no steam band |
| Series | Standalone debut — no series and no sequel; everything resolves |
| Content notes | Antisemitism and Holocaust aftermath, genocide and deportation referenced, homophobia and lesbophobia, explicit sexual content, death of a parent, grief, infidelity, xenophobia and religious bigotry |
How Spicy Is The Safekeep?
A 4.5 out of 5, and this is the rare literary novel where the heat is a headline feature rather than a footnote. romance.io lists the book without assigning it a steam level — it is not being catalogued as adult romance — so the number comes from the readers, and they are emphatic. Sexual content is the single most-flagged item on StoryGraph for this book, logged well over two hundred times and comfortably ahead of every other warning. The scenes are extended, graphic and unembarrassed, and reviewers repeatedly note being surprised by how far a Booker-shortlisted novel was willing to go.
What makes it work is that the sex is the argument rather than a break from it: the book is about a woman who cannot distinguish disgust from desire, and it stages that on the page rather than describing it. The one criticism worth flagging in advance is density — a real minority of readers feel the scenes stack up without enough build between them. If you want this level of heat in historical fiction elsewhere, Tipping the Velvet is the closest comparison on this site.
Who Should Read This Book?
You’ll likely love it if: you want the Fingersmith structure at a third of the length, you like a narrator you are not asked to approve of, you want explicit heat inside a serious literary novel, and you would rather have a hopeful ending than a tragic one.
You may want to skip it if: you guess twists early and resent them, you want the historical subject handled without a romance attached, you need a fully drawn love interest, or graphic sex in literary fiction is not what you are here for.
In short: a short, explicit, superbly constructed debut that gives Waters readers the one thing Waters rarely does — a happy ending.
What Readers Are Actually Saying (September 2026)
This is the most decorated book on this list and the one with the most live discourse. It was shortlisted for the Booker Prize in 2024 and won the Women’s Prize for Fiction in 2025, Kirkus starred it and named it to their best books of the year, and the New York Times, the Guardian, Publishers Weekly, Booklist, TIME and the Sunday Times all reviewed it positively. Among sapphic readers specifically the reception has been unusually warm — the Lesbrary has run two separate pieces on it, one of which calls it an instant classic of sapphic historical fiction. The Sarah Waters comparison is not something this site invented: multiple reviewers reach for it unprompted, most often naming The Paying Guests, and the Rebecca comparison comes up just as often.
The audiobook is narrated by Stina Nielsen and Saskia Maarleveld for Simon & Schuster Audio across 9 hours 30 minutes — one of the two shortest listens on this list. AudioFile praised it, and the pull-quote singles out Nielsen for a pervasive sense of disquiet that keeps listeners off balance.
Prefer audio? Listen to The Safekeep on Libro.fm — the audiobook shop that supports independent bookstores.
Why readers love it (according to the discourse): The atmosphere first — the house, the heat, the objects, the sense of a summer under glass. Then Isabel, whose unlikeability is named by almost every source as the point rather than a problem. The prose draws consistent praise for economy: at 272 pages there is no slack in it. And the emotional payoff of the reveal is described as landing even by readers who saw it coming, which is the strongest thing that can be said about a twist.
What readers argue about and complain about: The predictability of the twist, above everything — readers report guessing it within the first fifty pages, and the sharpest version of the complaint calls it too neat and too obviously constructed. Second: the sex, where the objection is density rather than existence; several readers say the scenes arrive on top of each other without earned build, and one names Chapter 10 outright. Third, and more substantive, a critical objection from Dutch coverage that the restitution plot is bent to serve a predetermined romantic resolution, which weakens the historical reckoning — that is the most serious argument against the book and it deserves airing. Fourth: Eva, whom a number of readers describe as underdeveloped next to Isabel, which matters when she is the other half of the relationship. And fifth, a marketing note: some readers arrived expecting a Sarah Waters-style thriller and found a slower, more interior novel than the packaging suggested.
The standalone question worth asking first: this is a standalone debut, it resolves completely, and there is no sequel to wait for. What there is instead is a career worth watching — this is a first novel that took a Booker shortlist and a Women’s Prize, which is not a common opening. For readers who want more of this specific thing right now, the honest answer is that the closest matches are older: Fingersmith for the structure, Rebecca for the house, and Plain Bad Heroines for the sapphic gothic register.
Frequently Asked Questions
Does The Safekeep have a happy ending?
Yes. Isabel and Eva end the novel together in the house, and the final scene is the two of them embracing on a snowy morning. It is the clearest happy ending of any book on this list.
Is The Safekeep like Fingersmith?
More than any other book here. Both run on a mid-book reversal that reorganises everything before it, both put two women in a house where one is watching the other, and both make class and property the real subject. The Safekeep is 272 pages to Fingersmith‘s 600.
How explicit is The Safekeep?
Very — a 4.5 out of 5. Sexual content is the most-flagged element on StoryGraph for this book by a wide margin, the scenes are extended and graphic, and several readers note being surprised by how far a Booker-shortlisted novel goes.
Did The Safekeep win the Booker Prize?
No. It was shortlisted for the Booker Prize in 2024 but did not win. It did win the Women’s Prize for Fiction in 2025.
Is there an audiobook of The Safekeep?
Yes — narrated by Stina Nielsen and Saskia Maarleveld for Simon & Schuster Audio, running 9 hours 30 minutes. AudioFile praised the narration for its sustained sense of disquiet.
If You Loved The Safekeep, Read These Next
The obvious next step is Fingersmith, which is the book The Safekeep is most often measured against and runs the same reversal at twice the length. For the same watching-and-obsession dynamic in a Victorian prison, Affinity is the closer structural match. And for sapphic gothic with a house that will not let go, Plain Bad Heroines takes the register somewhere stranger.
For more in this register, browse our books like Fingersmith guide, the historical sapphic romance reading list, or the full Book Reviews collection.
The Bottom Line
The Safekeep is the rare debut that arrives fully built. The house is a genuine character, Isabel is one of the best unlikeable narrators in recent fiction, the reversal is constructed with real nerve, and the heat is explicit enough to surprise people who came for the Booker sticker. It is also a twist a lot of readers see coming, a love interest who stays thinner than her counterpart, and — by one serious critical account — a historical reckoning slightly bent to fit a romantic ending. Worth it for almost everyone, and essential for anyone still looking for the next Fingersmith. Check The Safekeep on Amazon →
The Eikna Overall Ranking
On the Eikna scale, The Safekeep ranks as best-in-class sapphic historical fiction — short, explicit and structurally daring, held back only by a twist many readers guess early, and best approached as the modern answer to Fingersmith.
The Evidence Scorecard
Overall ★★★★☆ 4.2/5
- ✓ 4.05 average across 156,000 Goodreads ratings
- ✓ Women’s Prize for Fiction winner in 2025
- ✓ Booker Prize shortlist and a Kirkus star
- ✓ Twist guessed early by many readers
Romance ★★★★☆ 4.1/5
- ✓ Loathing curdles into desire convincingly
- ✓ Forced proximity used to genuine effect
- ✓ Ends with the two women together
- ✓ Eva stays thinner than Isabel throughout
Characters ★★★★☆ 4.2/5
- ✓ Isabel is a superb unlikeable narrator
- ✓ Never softened to buy reader sympathy
- ✓ The brothers are sharply drawn in few pages
- ✓ Readers finish unsure they met Eva
Writing ★★★★★ 4.5/5
- ✓ Kirkus starred it as nearly perfect
- ✓ New York Times praised fine, taut prose
- ✓ 272 pages with no slack in them
- ✓ A debut carrying a very hard structure
Emotional Impact ★★★★☆ 4.3/5
- ✓ The reveal lands even when guessed
- ✓ Reframes every earlier scene at once
- ✓ Historical guilt handled without lecturing
- ✓ One critic says the romance blunts it
Heat Level ★★★★★ 4.5/5
- ✓ Most-flagged content element on StoryGraph
- ✓ Extended, graphic and unembarrassed
- ✓ Desire and disgust running on one track
- ✓ A minority finds the scenes too dense
Ending ★★★★☆ 4.4/5
- ✓ Isabel and Eva end up together
- ✓ Hopeful without being tidy
- ✓ Standalone with nothing left pending
- ✓ Some readers find it arrives quickly
Re-read Value ★★★★☆ 4/5
- ✓ Planted clues reward a second pass
- ✓ Short enough to reread in a sitting
- ✓ 9.5-hour audiobook is an easy revisit
- ✓ Knowing the twist removes the first-read tension
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