Black women. Pregnancy. Education. Race. Wealth. Adoption. All of these topics converge in New York Times Bestselling Author Sadeqa Johnson’s newest book, The House of Eve.  

First, I want to mention how acclaimed this book has become. The House of Eve has become a New York Times Bestseller, a Reese’s Book Club pick, a Target book club pick, a Library Reads pick, and more. Reviewed by the Washington Post, Publisher’s Weekly, Library Journal, and Booklist, it was hailed by Kristen Harmel as “unforgettable” and by Robert Jones Jr. as something that “will remain with me always.” If you’re curious, you can check out the book from the Blough-Weis Library’s leisure section, and experience the incredible journey of reading The House of Eve for yourself.  

So what is it about this book that makes it so marvelously compelling? 

 ABOUT THE BOOK 

This story is told through two point-of-views, although both main characters are Black women living in 1950s America. Ruby is the illegitimate daughter of a mother who never really wanted her. In Philadelphia, she is mostly raised by Nene, her grandmother—but throughout the book she ends up staying with her Aunt Marie. As part of a special educational program, We Rise, Ruby hopes to win a scholarship and be the first in her family to go to college. But Ruby is suddenly enamored by a white Jewish boy, Shimmy, who accidentally gets her pregnant after one passionate night. When the pregnancy comes, Ruby strikes a deal with Shimmy’s mother: she promises to ensure Ruby’s scholarship so long as Ruby stays at a home for unwed mothers and gives up the baby for adoption after the birth.  

Then, there is Eleanor. Eleanor is slightly more well-off, currently attending Howard University as a college student, working in the library archives and living with her kind roommate Nadine. But Eleanor is fascinated by William Pride, a fellow Howard student. When Eleanor realizes he’s gotten her pregnant, she panics, and they end up marrying. The marriage is further complicated by the fact that William’s family is a wealthier, socially elite clan. Eleanor has a hard time fitting in, especially given that William’s mother, Rose, doesn’t seem to like her. Still, the couple are in love, and the marriage goes well. But then Eleanor miscarries. For her own safety, the doctor advises the couple don’t try again, and Eleanor is devastated—for her stillborn baby and for her chance to tie herself to the Prides once and for all. When she hears about a home with unwed mothers of color, she jumps the chance, and Eleanor and William set about a secret adoption. 

REVIEW 

While reading this book, I kept colored tabs on all the pages to keep track of topics to discuss in this review—pink for gender, orange for race, green for wealth. But the truth is, those tabs got convoluted, because this book is inherently intersectional. In the House of Eve, it’s clear that both Ruby’s and Eleanor’s experiences aren’t just about being female plus being Black plus being poor. Instead, it is all of these things that swirl together to shape the lives of each of their girls and the place they hold in the world.  

I enjoyed learning how the lives of the two girls contrasted with one another, but also had similarities. For example, both girls dealt with unwanted pregnancies, but in different ways: Eleanor inserted herself into the Pride family, enjoying the calmness of married life but also the chaos of trying to fit into a place she didn’t belong. Ruby, on the other hand, didn’t marry Shimmy and ended up giving up her baby. In both, the girls faced pressure from the boys’ mothers—but while Eleanor made up with Rose in the end, Ruby never quite reconciled with Shimmy’s mother. Both girls faced trauma as well: Eleanor had to face a miscarriage and a forced labor after her baby’s heart stopped beating. Meanwhile Ruby, already scarred from the morally skewed religious living conditions in the home for unwed mothers, has her baby ripped from her arms.  

On the other hand, both Ruby and Eleanor found love in this book. So much, in fact, that at one point I worried I’d have to say I just found all the romance too sappy. But I think the love between Ruby and Shimmy, or Eleanor and William, is really part of what makes the book so great. Because for all of the terrible things that happen to them, these two Black girls are getting all the love, care, and compassion that they deserve from their romantic partners. William is sweet to Eleanor—he proposes to her after she announces her pregnancy, and remains a loyal husband. Shimmy is friendly and accepting of Ruby—I mean, he’s so innocent he doesn’t seem to even realize just how impossible their relationship is in 1950s America. Overall, the boys are mostly gentle, kind lovers, and it was refreshing to see that.  

The reviews are right—this book is incredible and it has so much emotional weight. I could feel everything that these girls went through in my bones. For example, the disgust in the opening scene when Inez’s boyfriend forces Ruby to kiss him in exchange for a bus fare. Or the tenderness of Nadine calling Eleanor “Ohio.” The horror when Ruby is called the n-word on the street. The discomfort when Eleanor is in the room with the wealthy Prides, and is just desperately trying to fit in. The bone-deep agony when Eleanor sees the purple foot of her stillborn child. The tension when Ruby and two of the girls at the home help a third girl, Bubbles, birth her baby on her own so that she can escape during the night with it. And of course, the pure astonishment at realizing that when Eleanor and Ruby finally meet thirteen years later, neither of them knows the truth—that Ruby is the biological mother of Eleanor’s secretly adopted child.