United States
![Sadeqa Johnson - [object Object] author](https://res.cloudinary.com/readsomnia/image/upload/authors/a_B007CMM4EY.jpg)
The House of Eve
REESE'S FEBRUARY 2023 BOOK CLUB PICK
AN INSTANT NEW YORK TIMES BESTSELLER
"Amazing…These two women's lives intersect in the most wonderful and unlikely of ways. I was completely surprised by the ending of this beautifully told and written book." -Reese Witherspoon
"A triumph of historical fiction" (The Washington Post) set in 1950s Philadelphia and Washington, DC, that explores what it means to be a woman and a mother, and how much one is willing to sacrifice to achieve her greatest goal.
1950s Philadelphia: fifteen-year-old Ruby Pearsall is on track to becoming the first in her family to attend college, in spite of having a mother more interested in keeping a man than raising a daughter. But a taboo love affair threatens to pull her back down into the poverty and desperation that has been passed on to her like a birthright.
Eleanor Quarles arrives in Washington, DC, with ambition and secrets. When she meets the handsome William Pride at Howard University, they fall madly in love. But William hails from one of DC's elite wealthy Black families, and his parents don't let just anyone into their fold. Eleanor hopes that a baby will make her finally feel at home in William's family and grant her the life she's been searching for. But having a baby-and fitting in-is easier said than done.
With their stories colliding in the most unexpected of ways, Ruby and Eleanor will both make decisions that shape the trajectory of their lives.
AN INSTANT NEW YORK TIMES BESTSELLER
"Amazing…These two women's lives intersect in the most wonderful and unlikely of ways. I was completely surprised by the ending of this beautifully told and written book." -Reese Witherspoon
"A triumph of historical fiction" (The Washington Post) set in 1950s Philadelphia and Washington, DC, that explores what it means to be a woman and a mother, and how much one is willing to sacrifice to achieve her greatest goal.
1950s Philadelphia: fifteen-year-old Ruby Pearsall is on track to becoming the first in her family to attend college, in spite of having a mother more interested in keeping a man than raising a daughter. But a taboo love affair threatens to pull her back down into the poverty and desperation that has been passed on to her like a birthright.
Eleanor Quarles arrives in Washington, DC, with ambition and secrets. When she meets the handsome William Pride at Howard University, they fall madly in love. But William hails from one of DC's elite wealthy Black families, and his parents don't let just anyone into their fold. Eleanor hopes that a baby will make her finally feel at home in William's family and grant her the life she's been searching for. But having a baby-and fitting in-is easier said than done.
With their stories colliding in the most unexpected of ways, Ruby and Eleanor will both make decisions that shape the trajectory of their lives.
Editorial Reviews
"The House of Eve is a triumph of historical fiction.…Johnson's novel is an affecting and arresting exploration of young Black womanhood and motherhood in the mid-20th century…. Johnson's talents are in full bloom in this layered story with two distinctive and compelling young Black women at the center…. The House of Eve is engrossing, emotionally wrenching and socially astute storytelling."--Washington Post
"A heartrending story."-Taylor Jenkins Reid, via Goodreads
"A provocative and heartrending tale about two young women forced to face the limitations of their reproductive choices in 1950s America. Ripping open the complex intersection of classism, colorism and gender inequality, Johnson has delivered a powerful statement on the cost of suppressing female autonomy that's stunning to experience and impossible to forget."--Atlanta Journal Constitution
"This is a moving work of women's fiction with timely perspective on racism, colorism, and pre-Roe women's rights in the United States of the 1950s. Fans of Tayari Jones, Brit Bennett, and Jeni McFarland will want to check it out."-Library Journal
"Johnson's suspenseful and thought-provoking latest follows two young Black women as they separately navigate mid-20th century America…. This well-crafted work is bound to provoke discussion among readers about the conflicts women face regarding pregnancy."-Publishers Weekly
"Johnson showcases the difficult boundaries of race, class, and education as she explores the obstacles and consequences that confront those who seek to cross them."-Booklist
"Johnson's portrait of young women with sharp wit and big dreams is powerful and honest."--PopSugar
"If you've read Sadeqa Johnson's other books, you'll know her extraordinary talent for writing historical fiction that breaks the mold by challenging dominant narratives and encouraging readers to rethink their assumptions. Her latest offering is a powerfully moving story of womanhood, motherhood, race and redemption."--Ms. Magazine
"Sadeqa Johnson is expert at excavating the parts of the past that we would rather not confront. She dusts off these harrowing histories, shines them up, ...
"A heartrending story."-Taylor Jenkins Reid, via Goodreads
"A provocative and heartrending tale about two young women forced to face the limitations of their reproductive choices in 1950s America. Ripping open the complex intersection of classism, colorism and gender inequality, Johnson has delivered a powerful statement on the cost of suppressing female autonomy that's stunning to experience and impossible to forget."--Atlanta Journal Constitution
"This is a moving work of women's fiction with timely perspective on racism, colorism, and pre-Roe women's rights in the United States of the 1950s. Fans of Tayari Jones, Brit Bennett, and Jeni McFarland will want to check it out."-Library Journal
"Johnson's suspenseful and thought-provoking latest follows two young Black women as they separately navigate mid-20th century America…. This well-crafted work is bound to provoke discussion among readers about the conflicts women face regarding pregnancy."-Publishers Weekly
"Johnson showcases the difficult boundaries of race, class, and education as she explores the obstacles and consequences that confront those who seek to cross them."-Booklist
"Johnson's portrait of young women with sharp wit and big dreams is powerful and honest."--PopSugar
"If you've read Sadeqa Johnson's other books, you'll know her extraordinary talent for writing historical fiction that breaks the mold by challenging dominant narratives and encouraging readers to rethink their assumptions. Her latest offering is a powerfully moving story of womanhood, motherhood, race and redemption."--Ms. Magazine
"Sadeqa Johnson is expert at excavating the parts of the past that we would rather not confront. She dusts off these harrowing histories, shines them up, ...
Readers Top Reviews
D H. RamanMantraF
At the heart of it this book is an ode to female relationships- how we love, hate, cherish and pull each other down, and how love also means sacrifice. Sadeqa makes her characters come alive in the book, and reading her author's note in the end made this story all the more emotional. For fans of her previous novel, The Yellow Wife, the little nugget of a plot twist in the end was like turning on a little light bulb. Without being preachy or getting into exposition, Sadeqa Johnson masterfully tackles issues of race, oppression, persecution, sacrifice, colorism and the spirit of the human heart to succeed despite the obstacles.
TA D H. RamanMant
I don’t usually write reviews, but I had to take a moment to write. When I heard about this book I couldn’t wait to read it. I came to the point where my anticipation was so high I thought I would get disappointed when I finally got around to reading it. I COULD NOT PUT IT DOWN and exceeded my expectations. Beautifully written and well told. Move this book to the top of your TBR!
Dori OwenTA D H.
Sadeqa Johnson writes an original and engrossing story of two women whose separate lives intersect in a comforting yet unlikely way during the 1950s with themes of race colorism, unwed mothers, the cruelty of homes for unwed mothers and questionable adoptions. The story is woven with wonderful characters and themes of taboo interracial relationships, historical black colleges, the fabulous music of the Duke Ellington era, and brings the reader the reality of life in the late 1940s early 1950s. The story is narrated back and forth between Ruby and Eleanor as they grow and learn the joy of falling in love and the sadness the joy can bring. This stunning novel is a snapshot of this era and an unputdownable book full of wonderful characters and stories. On my list of top ten best books—excellent literary read!
OliviaDori OwenTA
When reading about these two young ladies, it gives perspective on the times, and how we didn’t have rights to our own bodies and how we would be able to handle things because it seems like other people always was one step ahead. I loved reading the stories of Eleanor and Ruby, I want more of their lives and how this is going to affect them and how this is going to play out in the future Sadeqa Johnson is an amazing writer, and is able to always captivate stories to make these characters come alive, and rent a vintage little space in my head.
Tammy AOliviaDori
All the stars!!! I loved SJ’s previous book Yellow Wife (look for a connection in here), but this.. it absolutely blew me away. 👏🏻📘😭 I finished it several days ago and am still thinking about it! It packed one powerful punch. I still don’t have the exact words to describe how it made me feel with so many emotions involved, but afterwards I felt if in their shoes I would of been strong enough to endure it. It will hit your heart hard.. the situations (taboo for the 1950’s) and sacrifices these women were put in and had to make will have your heart breaking time and again. 💔 And as with Yellow Wife, Sadeqa Johnson has seamlessly, and so BRILLIANTLY weaved in actual American history that brought this story alive.. I could not put it down. Excellent. 5 stars — Pub. 2/7/23 Feb ‘23 Reeses Book Club pick.
Short Excerpt Teaser
Chapter One: Mommies and Dragons CHAPTER ONE Philadelphia, October 1948 MOMMIES AND DRAGONS Ruby
My grandma Nene always said that early was on time, on time was late, and late was unacceptable. Fatty was unacceptably late again. Knowing full well that I had some place important to be. I didn't mind staying with Grandma Nene overnight once a week so that Fatty could clean offices. All I asked was that she be home in time for me to catch the bus to my Saturday enrichment classes. And for the third week in a row, Fatty dragged her heavy feet through Nene's apartment door fifteen minutes behind schedule, calling out in her high-pitched voice, "Ruby girl, I'm sorry. Let me tell you what happened."
My cousin had more excuses than a hoe going to jail, and I didn't have time to entertain her colorful tales this morning. I had one hour to get all the way down to South Philly, and I twisted up my lips in a way that I hoped conveyed how annoyed I was over her lack of consideration.
"You got my carfare?" I thrust my hand in her face, but Fatty brushed past me in the narrow hallway, past the crooked family pictures that hung in mismatched frames, through to the small L-shaped kitchen. I stomped behind her as she snatched back her pageboy wig and tossed it on the counter.
"Your mother said she'd leave it for you."
A baby cockroach scurried from under the toaster, and Fatty smashed it dead with her palm.
"You gonna make me walk all the way back in the opposite direction? Just give me twenty cents."
"I would if I could," she said, scrubbing her hands at the apron sink. "But I'm broke as a joke girl until next Friday."
My scalp heated. "Grandma ain't got no money round here? What if my mother forgot?"
"Chile, I talked to Inez last night, she said she would. Now quit wearing out my nerves. If you leave now, you'll make it." Fatty reached into the icebox and cracked open a can of Schlitz. She tipped it to her lips and took a long swallow, then exhaled in a way that suggested that she had been thirsting for that beer her whole way home. After another hungry swig, she undid the buttons to her blue uniform down to her waist. The rolls around her middle sighed with relief.
"Did Nene take her medicine?"
I snatched up my school bag, nodding my head with frustration. "She's been sleep twenty minutes. Her next eye dosage is at eleven."
With the front door open, I could smell scrapple frying from the new neighbor's apartment on the first floor. She had twin babies who kept up a chorus of crying all night long. "I'm not doing this for you no more."
Fatty belched, then called after me, "I said I was sorry. Damn girl, what you want? Blood?"
I slammed the door in response, then felt bad, hoping I hadn't disturbed Nene.
The piece of toast I had prepared for my journey was now cold and stiff with butter. I shoved the bread in my mouth as I ran down the two flights of stairs and out onto 28th Street. A dampness clung to the air from last night's rain, and I had to sidestep wet leaves that had gathered in potholes.
I had been marked tardy for the last three weeks in a row, and Mrs. Thomas said if I was late to one more enrichment class, she was writing me up. I wondered if Fatty was messing with my future on purpose. Everyone, even Fatty, knew how prestigious it was to be selected to participate in the Armstrong Association's We Rise program. As one of twelve Negro students chosen from across the city of Philadelphia, I was competing to receive a full four-year scholarship to Cheyney University, the oldest historically Negro college in the country. To earn it, I had to be impeccable in every way, and being on time was a requirement. If I wasn't awarded the scholarship, I could forget all about going to college for optometry. No one in my family had been to college, nor could they afford to send me. I refused to let Fatty's disregard for time muddy up my future. Especially since she hadn't even finished high school.
Out on Columbia Avenue I passed by the Temple of God, where women dressed in white from head to toe stood greeting the congregation by the storefront entrance. It was the only church in the neighborhood that met on Saturday mornings, and I avoided eye contact, lest one of the women think I was curious about being saved by their Lord and try coaxing me to join them.
I hurried on, rounding the corner onto 33rd Street. In the middle of the block, I could see four men huddled in folding chairs in front of Process Willie's barbershop. A backgammon set hunkered between two of them, and they all clung to paper cups, probably sipping brown liquor that kept them warm so early in t...
My grandma Nene always said that early was on time, on time was late, and late was unacceptable. Fatty was unacceptably late again. Knowing full well that I had some place important to be. I didn't mind staying with Grandma Nene overnight once a week so that Fatty could clean offices. All I asked was that she be home in time for me to catch the bus to my Saturday enrichment classes. And for the third week in a row, Fatty dragged her heavy feet through Nene's apartment door fifteen minutes behind schedule, calling out in her high-pitched voice, "Ruby girl, I'm sorry. Let me tell you what happened."
My cousin had more excuses than a hoe going to jail, and I didn't have time to entertain her colorful tales this morning. I had one hour to get all the way down to South Philly, and I twisted up my lips in a way that I hoped conveyed how annoyed I was over her lack of consideration.
"You got my carfare?" I thrust my hand in her face, but Fatty brushed past me in the narrow hallway, past the crooked family pictures that hung in mismatched frames, through to the small L-shaped kitchen. I stomped behind her as she snatched back her pageboy wig and tossed it on the counter.
"Your mother said she'd leave it for you."
A baby cockroach scurried from under the toaster, and Fatty smashed it dead with her palm.
"You gonna make me walk all the way back in the opposite direction? Just give me twenty cents."
"I would if I could," she said, scrubbing her hands at the apron sink. "But I'm broke as a joke girl until next Friday."
My scalp heated. "Grandma ain't got no money round here? What if my mother forgot?"
"Chile, I talked to Inez last night, she said she would. Now quit wearing out my nerves. If you leave now, you'll make it." Fatty reached into the icebox and cracked open a can of Schlitz. She tipped it to her lips and took a long swallow, then exhaled in a way that suggested that she had been thirsting for that beer her whole way home. After another hungry swig, she undid the buttons to her blue uniform down to her waist. The rolls around her middle sighed with relief.
"Did Nene take her medicine?"
I snatched up my school bag, nodding my head with frustration. "She's been sleep twenty minutes. Her next eye dosage is at eleven."
With the front door open, I could smell scrapple frying from the new neighbor's apartment on the first floor. She had twin babies who kept up a chorus of crying all night long. "I'm not doing this for you no more."
Fatty belched, then called after me, "I said I was sorry. Damn girl, what you want? Blood?"
I slammed the door in response, then felt bad, hoping I hadn't disturbed Nene.
The piece of toast I had prepared for my journey was now cold and stiff with butter. I shoved the bread in my mouth as I ran down the two flights of stairs and out onto 28th Street. A dampness clung to the air from last night's rain, and I had to sidestep wet leaves that had gathered in potholes.
I had been marked tardy for the last three weeks in a row, and Mrs. Thomas said if I was late to one more enrichment class, she was writing me up. I wondered if Fatty was messing with my future on purpose. Everyone, even Fatty, knew how prestigious it was to be selected to participate in the Armstrong Association's We Rise program. As one of twelve Negro students chosen from across the city of Philadelphia, I was competing to receive a full four-year scholarship to Cheyney University, the oldest historically Negro college in the country. To earn it, I had to be impeccable in every way, and being on time was a requirement. If I wasn't awarded the scholarship, I could forget all about going to college for optometry. No one in my family had been to college, nor could they afford to send me. I refused to let Fatty's disregard for time muddy up my future. Especially since she hadn't even finished high school.
Out on Columbia Avenue I passed by the Temple of God, where women dressed in white from head to toe stood greeting the congregation by the storefront entrance. It was the only church in the neighborhood that met on Saturday mornings, and I avoided eye contact, lest one of the women think I was curious about being saved by their Lord and try coaxing me to join them.
I hurried on, rounding the corner onto 33rd Street. In the middle of the block, I could see four men huddled in folding chairs in front of Process Willie's barbershop. A backgammon set hunkered between two of them, and they all clung to paper cups, probably sipping brown liquor that kept them warm so early in t...
