I loved this book. Fiercely.
At first, the writing style threw me off – it’s composed entirely of letters between the characters, which means every moment is experienced second- or third-hand. But once I learned the rhythm, I realized how much more intimate a reading experience it creates – it was almost like finding an old stack of love letters in the attic, but instead of just one side, you have multiple authors and can piece them together to get a full account.
And the characters, they are all so dorky and endearingly real – they’re all still living in my head, interacting and living their lives. This, to me, is the sign of a Great Book.
Now that the gushing is out of the way, I should attempt to explain this book. It’s about an island (Guernsey) near England that was occupied during WWII, and the islanders who formed a literary society to help distract them from the horrors of the war. And then it’s about an author who finds out about them and starts to learn all their stories.
I am definitely keeping this one, and am tempted to pick it up and read it again right now.
But I won’t. I’ve picked out some themed reading for France. So, if you haven’t read it yet, you can borrow mine.