Author explores classism, colorism

Dual narratives chart impact of unplanned pregnancies.

Virginia author Sadeqa Johnson’s second work of historical fiction, “The House of Eve,” is 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.

Ruby Pearsall is a character born from Johnson’s family history. In the author’s note, she reveals that her grandmother became pregnant at age 15 in 1955. Her grandfather was light-skinned and affluent, while her grandmother was “mahogany brown and from the lower-class section of North Philadelphia.” Taking these kernels from her origin story, Johnson expands the narrative to explore the experiences of a handful of women who battle not just poverty and unwed pregnancy but discrimination from within their own community.

Ruby is determined to be the first in her family to go to college. Born to an unwed teen and raised by her grandmother, she’s desperate for an education so she can become an ophthalmologist and cure her grandmother’s blindness. As a candidate for the “We Rise” program offering a full scholarship to the top two students in her school, the last thing Ruby has time for is the attention of Shimmy Shapiro. Nothing good can come from entangling with her Jewish landlord’s son.

Elanor Quarles has a past inspired by Toni Morrison. A student at Howard University studying history, Elanor didn’t know “Negroes separated themselves by color” when she first arrived from Ohio. Now counting on acceptance into a prestigious sorority to elevate her socially, Elanor is hurt by their rejection she blames on her poor background and rich skin tone. But William Pride, a well-positioned heir of Washington, D.C.’s elite, doesn’t concern himself with society’s expectations and offers her a ticket to the life of her dreams.

Alternating between Ruby’s and Elanor’s narratives, Johnson uses their coming-of-age tales to compare their struggles. While Elanor has achieved Ruby’s objective and risen above her circumstances, her challenges are only beginning. William’s parents have picked out a different wife for their son, and it’s through this complication Johnson digs into the multifarious reality of colorism. Meanwhile, Ruby’s entanglement with Shimmy shines a light on the impracticality of an interracial relationship that’s equally heartbreaking and angering to observe.

While the setup of “The House of Eve” isn’t unique, it’s the fearlessness with which Johnson plunges into the depths of her characters that initially drives her narrative forward. She excels in pushing beyond hero and villain archetypes and takes care to craft characters that are flawed and complex. They make mistakes and don’t always choose in their own best interests, yet are lovable and worthy of redemption. The humanity she infuses into Ruby and Elanor is nuanced and relatable.

The burden Ruby and Elanor bear for loving men who are perceived as better than they are is profound. A painful combination of classism and racism bombards them from a multitude of angles. They struggle for relevance in their own communities, but stepping outside them brings greater hardship. It’s especially disturbing when Ruby is shopping at a high-end department store and learns first-hand that “knowing about racism and being abused by its wrath were two different things.”

Ruby and Elanor both engage in consensual relationships with men who care for them. Yet their unplanned pregnancies impact their lives with greater acuteness than Shimmy’s or William’s. Johnson expands on the suffering other unwed teen girls endure when her narrative ventures into a maternity home, a place where “fallen girls” are sent to await forced adoption. Their collective stories drop a hammer on the patriarchal double standard and give voice to an added layer of adversity.

As her characters navigate their situations, Johnson’s plot propels. Staying focused on the truth embedded in the human experience, she delves into the injustices those considered “less than” can be subjected to. The effect is as devastating as it is potent.

Yet all is not bleak in “The House of Eve.” Ruby and Elanor experience pockets of happiness and success. Elanor derives strength from her work as an archivist at the Howard University library. Her boss is based on Dorothy Porter Wesley, the woman who built the Moorland-Spingarn Research Center at Howard and extended the Dewey decimal system to categorize Black history books by topics other than colonization and slavery.

As Elanor and her boss archive the library’s collection, Johnson uses the opportunity to breathe life into the past. She delves into figures such as Dr. Charles Drew, the blood plasma pioneer who founded the first large-scale blood bank. And she relays Dorothy Creole’s story, a 17th century landowner who helped establish a settlement located in present-day Greenwich Village known as the Land of the Blacks. From Dinah Washington to Fredi Washington, Phyllis Wheatley to Satchel Paige, and so many in between, Johnson drops an omnibus of historical names into the narrative. Sometimes she pauses to give backstory or context and sometimes she doesn’t. The result is a vibrant tapestry that’s as much of an education as a celebration of the contributions and accomplishments of a cadre of Black Americans.

By nestling a tale of individual struggle among the collective successes of those who came before, Johnson tackles difficult subject matter with honesty and impact while still imparting hope. Her courageous exploration of reproductive suppression concludes as Ruby’s and Elanor’s tales come together in unexpected ways, providing a poignant and satisfying ending Sadeqa Johnson’s grandmother didn’t get in real life.

Sadeqa Johnson