I have long been interested in the character of Eve, both as a historical figure and as a character against which the modern day woman is constantly held up. I took a number of Women's Studies courses in college in which Eve figured largely, and my writer's eye has always been drawn to old stories told new ways. Eve is Elissa Elliott's re-imagining of the first woman of Biblical fame, told from both her perspective as well as that of her three daughters, incorporating flashbacks to relate the story of the expulsion from Eden as well. Through these generational perspectives, the story of the summer everything fell apart for the First Family is recounted, from their first encounters with a world outside their own insular one to the infamous fratricide of Cain and Abel. At the end of her tale, Elliott offers an Afterword in which she attempts to underscore her decisions for the book, as well as outline some of her sources that allowed her to move forward with those decisions. I found it extraordinarily helpful in my reflection to have some of Elliott's first questions about how she drafted her story. Her discussion of precedent and context and literary injection allowed me to sink myself deeper into not only this tale that Elissa Elliott has forged, but also the character that inspired its re-forging.
First and foremost in my musings about Eve is the agency she is given through her own perspective. By being allowed to tell her own story, Eve is given a power here that she has never quite seen. Elliott's addition of daughters also contextualizes her experience in a particularly female way, lending a female generational connect to rise up. Naava is the eldest (14 years), vain and capricious, who takes care of clothing the family with her weaving. Aya is the middle daughter, born with a deformed foot, responsible for feeding the family with her fabulous and inventive cooking. Dara is the baby, still very simplistic, taking most things in her life at face value but still managing some moments of profoundness. The three girls can also be read as different stages or foils of Eve's own belief and views of the world: Naava is extraordinarily self-centered and convinced she knows best out of all, an inkling of which can be seen in Eve's decision to eat the fruit in the Garden; Aya is the most faithful, always unilaterally supporting the god she has been taught, even holding strong when her mother falters and becomes confused by the new gods from the city people; and Dara is the caring free spirit that is most similar to Eve's inception in the Garden, so pure and selfless and open. Elliott's narrative style paints Eve's story in a different light, as all perspectives come from the mouth of a woman in this text: the male characters are only seen through the eyes of the female characters. Eve and her daughters are the only ones given chapter headings, given a direct platform for narration. It is also interesting to denote which of the female characters are given first-person perspective to relay their tale, versus those who are always third-person.
In a similar vein, Eve's perspective brings up a question that actually figures in the reader's guide in the back of the book, one that has been important to me from a very young age: Is it valuable to look upon Elohim as male and female? Eve first questions Elohim on page 65, asking if Elohim is one or the other if she and Adam are both made in His image. I have often pondered this and I think it is important to view both/all aspects of Elohim equally, which is why I rarely use gender pronouns in discussion, save for quoting as I've done above. This questioning is a common theme throughout Elliott's story, as she examines the role of belief in religion through the family's exposure to the city people and their separate gods, a pantheistic point of view that seems to echo the family's Elohim but is decidedly different in its execution. I appreciate this questioning, this examination of belief arrayed in each of the characters, as I mentioned with the daughters. Dara mentions that "Elohim had also told Mother that she should never stop questioning, that you are dead, once you do." (p 267) Particularly striking is a moment when Dara, the youngest, is talking to her father and he asks her questions about the city gods she has learned about since coming to work for the prince's household, and she replies, "I don't know, I have to think about that." (p 364) The fact that such a young mind is encouraged and expected to ponder her own opinions on such matters is heartwarming and reminiscent of my own upbringing, both in Montessori and in my Jewish community.
Early in her story, Eve says, "Such strength in words! Such power in a breath!" (p64) I underlined these words in my book, and I have long felt their truth. In writing this book, Elissa Elliott has given strength and breath to one of the most interesting females in human history and I for one have benefited greatly from it.
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