All the Light We Cannot See

I can't write much (anything?) about Anthony Doerr's All the Light We Cannot See that has not already been written. It is a truly fantastic book, worthy of the many commendations it has received, and the rave reviews others have posted (including Viola, who first encouraged me to read this months ago...I've been the time since on my library's waiting list!).

So, a bit of synopsis: Marie-Laure is a blind Parisian, the only daughter of a widower who makes it his mission to help her be as independent as possible. Through the construction of intricate models that include every tree, curb, and drain, she feels her way - first with her fingers, then with her cane - through their arrondissement. When Germany invades France, everything changes, not least because her father, as a longtime, loyal employee of the Museum of Natural History is changed with safeguarding a national treasure. They leave Paris for St-Malo, an ancient walled city surrounded by ocean. (As a side note, I must add here that St-Malo is truly stunning. If you every have the opportunity to visit, do so! And as you do, consider that everything you see is a reconstruction - the city was absolutely destroyed in the war, and the buildings rebuilt, literally from their same stones. It's an amazing experience. But I digress.)

Ultimately, from her great-uncle's house in St-Malo, Marie Laure crosses paths with the young German soldier, Werner, whose only happiness in an orphanage came when tinkering with radios. His skill leads him to become a top resistance tracker for the Nazis, although slowly his conscience begins to gnaw at him.

As I said at the beginning, All the Light We Cannot See is a truly fantastic novel. The characters are well developed and convincing, the story arcs are compelling, and the history - of Paris and St-Malo both - is superbly accurate. I was reminded time and again of The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society, another World War II historical fiction that I loved. (For what it's worth, you can actually take a ferry to Guernsey from St-Malo; I very much hope to do so one day.) Like Markus Zusak, Doerr provides a realistic glimpse of the German people during wartime, and the varied perspectives, motivations, and deprivations of life in Nazi Germany.

Having just read And There Was Light: The Extraordinary Memoir of a Blind Hero of the French Resistance in World War II, I wondered as I read to what extent Doerr drew inspiration from Jacques Lusseyran; his memoir is one of the first texts named in the acknowledgements.

If you haven't yet read this book, you should. Even if you have to wait months for your library's copy.