Happy Land By Dolen Perkins-Valdez
★★★★★
Stunning. Lures you in, then explodes. Bittersweet, bold, and unforgettable.
You’re almost 40. Your life is a pseudo mess. You’re facing a mini identity crisis. You have a daughter. You have a mother. You’ve lost your father - and your husband too, but to divorce. You live in D.C. Your dates haven’t been great. Your friends say you look sad. You also have a grandmother - estranged, distant. You and your mother haven’t heard from her in years. Then she calls.
She says: Come.
Come now. To North Carolina.
You are Nikki - our present-day protagonist in Happy Land.
In Happy land Dolen dissects a dark traumatic history with warmth, precision, knowledge, and light. I loved so many things about this book. It had many of the ingredients I adore in great literature:
Clear writing
That isn’t cheap or overly flowery. Every word feels intentional. Dolen writes with precision - you can tell she knows not just what she wants to do on the page, but how. There’s urgency in her prose, but it’s well wrapped with warmth. A rare combination. Few writers can pull this off, but she does - and gracefully.
Dual narratives with distinct souls
Happy Land features a dual storyline that ultimately converges. Each thread has its own tempo, mood, and emotional tone, creating a textured, layered reading experience. It doesn’t feel like one story stretched thin - it feels like two fully realized worlds speaking to each other across time.
Female characters who don’t lean
Writing women well - especially in literary fiction - is an art. It’s deceptively easy to miss. Some writers lean on tropes of strength - schemers, survivors, action drivers - but often forget that strong women aren’t always loud or combative.
In Happy Land, the women stand like Iroko trees. They don’t lean. They don’t beg to be noticed. They are.
Nikki, for instance, is sad and somewhat reserved, but she walks her story without using anyone as a crutch. She is quietly powerful. The kind of protagonist who holds space without filling it with noise. This book reminded me that well-written female characters don’t just challenge norms - they simply live outside them.
Rooted in facts and realism
Without giving much away, Happy Land is inspired by a real Black kingdom that once existed. The narrative is steeped in both history and contemporary realities. It reflects systemic struggles without resorting to victimhood.
There’s no preaching - just precision and clarity: This happened. This is happening.
Dolen - an Harvard alum and a GWU PhD (Go revs!) says “my goal as a writer is to literally unearth stories that normally people wouldn’t know about. I feel like that’s my calling. I feel like it’s what I do best.” And she does that well. . . in fact so well.
Artistic storytelling with historical weight
This is my first book by Dolen Perkins-Valdez, but from what I’ve gathered, her stories are often rooted in historical truths. In Wench, she explores the lives of enslaved women taken to vacation resorts. In Take My Hand, she dives into reproductive injustice in the 70s. In Happy Land, she resurrects a forgotten kingdom from the 1800s. What’s impressive is how she tells these stories with flair, especially in Luella’s arc. Many authors feel so beholden to truth that they write with restraint. But Dolen balances reverence with creativity. The result is luminous.
One of the central themes in Happy Land is identity - not just personal, but collective identity. Who are we in the context of our lineage? Of a history we didn’t choose, but inherited? And how does understanding how we came to be shape who we become?
The novel also delves deeply into legacy and inheritance - what do we pass on, both consciously and unconsciously? How do systems - economic, cultural, social - shape what survives and what disappears? What gets remembered, and what gets erased?
Motherhood and generational memory are equally powerful threads. Dolen Perkins-Valdez tenderly explores the fragile, and at times fractured, connections between mothers and daughters - and the ways that memory travels, or doesn’t, across generations. What we choose to carry, what we choose to forget, and what resurfaces despite our silence.
And then there’s resistance through existence, captured beautifully in one of my favorite characters: Mother Rita. Sometimes, just being is a form of defiance. Sometimes, choosing to remember - to hold the line on what the world would rather forget - is the most radical thing a person can do.
At its core, Happy Land is a quietly powerful David-and-Goliath story, with a touch of a Nehemiah arc - the kind of restoration narrative that rebuilds not just places, but people. What begins as a story about a woman answering a phone call quickly unfolds into a deeply personal revolution: a resistance against erasure, against silence, and against the slow forgetting of a people’s worth. It’s not a loud rebellion - It’s organic. It draws you in with warmth and ease, but as the layers peel back, the emotional weight intensifies. You might need a tissue box - and a moment to reflect on your own lineage, losses, and interior landscape.
In the end, Happy Land defines happiness. It reminds us that the emotion is rooted, not in what life does to us but in who we are.
Some of my Favorite Quotes:
“A family tree isn’t just something you draw on paper. It’s an actual tree planted in the ground, with bark for skin and branches for arms. It’s the earth pushed up into the sky. It’s the physical manifestation of dreams.”
“To read was to have the language to ask for the things you wanted, so I became determined to teach myself.”
“I’m just trying to find my great-great-great-grandmother and I’ve gotta wade through trauma. Maybe this is why a lot of Black people don’t know our history. Just the search requires fortitude.”