26 Jun Book Review: The Dovekeepers by Alice Hoffman

Alice Hoffman is best known for her magical realism and lyrical prose in novels like Practical Magic and The Rules of Magic. With The Dovekeepers, she shifts into historical fiction—telling the story of one of the most intense and tragic sieges in history: Masada, the ancient fortress overlooking the Dead Sea. Hoffman’s version is intimate and immersive, layering myth, history, and feminine resilience in a beautifully haunting tapestry.

What’s it about?

The novel begins in 70 CE, as tensions flare and Jerusalem teeters on rebellion. Into this storm step four women: Yael, Revka, Aziza, and Shirah—each with her own story of loss and longing, and each seeking purpose in a world unravelling.

Yael, the blacksmith’s daughter, arrives at Masada carrying a secret pain from her past—one that has shaped her fiercely protective nature. Revka is a mother grieving her lost daughter, entering the refuge with a heavy heart and a determination to survive. Aziza, a biracial orphan, is struggling with identity, her dual heritage both burden and blessing. And Shirah, a copper engraver, battles her own solitude and a life shaped by silence and art.

Their paths converge as they are chosen to care for thousands of doves—symbolic birds binding their lives and souls together. Among walls of sand, stone, and fierce desert sun, the dovekeepers tend the birds and each other. Their daily rituals—water flights, feeding, caring for sick hatchlings—mirror their own need to nurture and heal.

As the Romans lay siege, the women’s backstories are interwoven, revealing moments of profound love and devastating loss. Yael recalls forging tools for her village and burying the dead; Revka relives the trauma of losing her child to the violence of war; Aziza remembers being shunned by a tribe that saw her as other; Shirah reflects on her time crafting beauty in an unforgiving world. Each memory is lush, painful, and essential in understanding why they remain in this mountain fortress.

Tensions intensify when Rabbi Elazar Ben Yair rallies the Jewish rebels for one final stand. Inside Masada, faith and fear collide. The dove tenders find themselves at the heart of cultural rituals, secret nights of prayer, and unfolding power struggles. Under moonlit skies, doves swirl in the courtyard—a peaceful ballet contrasted with the silent dread of Roman legions below.

As supplies dwindle and hope dims, the dovekeepers’ bond grows. They share food rations, traded stories, and whispered prayers, forging a sisterhood not bound by blood, but by shared humanity. In one pivotal scene, the women confront an argument between leaders and soldiers—reminding everyone that they, too, are part of this fight.

In the final chapters, Masada’s fall becomes inevitable. The women, desperate to maintain dignity and agency in the face of defeat, make choices both heartbreaking and heroic. The novel doesn’t shy away from the horror of the final massacre—but Hoffman reframes it through the lens of love: the women’s care for one another, their doves, and their stories.

The ending leaves us with an echo—a lesson about the cost of freedom, the scars of history, and the power of stories that survive. As the dust settles and the silence of the desert envelopes the fortress, the legacy of these women endures.

What This Chick Thinks

A Female-Centered Perspective on Epic Tragedy

Hoffman does something extraordinary here: she centers her narrative on women often missing from historical accounts. By giving voice to Yael, Revka, Aziza, and Shirah, she redefines heroism. They are warriors of the everyday—mothers, artisans, caregivers—who fight not with swords, but with love, memory, and quiet resistance.

Lyrical but Grounded Writing

The prose is lush, almost poetic, yet grounded in sensory detail. You can feel the grit of desert sand beneath your feet and taste the rough bread they chew during lean hours. Hoffman balances her magical realism instincts with gritty realism—there’s dignity in the details, and a lived-in authenticity to the fortress, its stones, and its people.

Emotional Depth That Stays With You

This is not just a history lesson—it’s emotional excavation. When Yael picks up a dove’s broken wing, or when Revka whispers her daughter’s name under her breath, you feel the weight of their scars. The emotional resonance is persistent: sorrow, sisterly devotion, and the excruciating tension of waiting for the inevitable.

A Few Slow Spots—but Worth It

The structure can sometimes feel episodic—scenes shift between each woman’s backstory and present life. If you’re in love with sweeping narratives, you might find this approach slow-moving. But for me, it underscored the rhythms of life in Masada—each woman’s story matters, and the pacing mirrors that care.

Final Thoughts

The Dovekeepers is a powerful, richly textured novel that gives voice to women in a moment of heroism often told through male lens. Hoffman’s blend of historical detail, emotional intimacy, and lyrical storytelling creates a novel that’s both epic and deeply personal. If you’re up for sweeping historical fiction with heart, this one’s a keeper.

Rating: 9/10

Try it if you like:

• The Night Watch by Sarah Waters – A WWII-set novel that weaves multiple women’s stories with tension, memory, and resistance.
• The Alice Network by Kate Quinn – A dual-timeline tale of female spies in WWI and WWII, with moral complexity and historical immersion.
• The Song of Achilles by Madeline Miller – A lyrical retelling of myth, spotlighting love and friendship in ancient times.