Beauty is not always blatant. It might not be found in the
tallest peak of the snowiest mountain, or the greenest fir of the forest. It
might not be found in the glittering vastness of the sea nor the tropical
inhabitants of distant rainforests, but in the delicate string which
intertwines two souls for a single moment in eternity. It may be residing in
the sweet flesh of canned peaches shared high up in a musty attic, nestled within
a war torn sea port. It may be found in the desperate clench of a boys hand
over an earpiece he clutches against his ear in the basement of a collapsed
hotel.
As I type hunched over my laptop, freshly showered, with
Debussy’s Clair De Lune delicately playing next to me, I realise what a
blessing books are. How I will remain eternally grateful at the narratives
which envelope me in world after world of continuous rapture. I will not say
enjoyment as I cannot remember the last time I ugly cried this hard. However, every
once in a while, I stumble along a book which makes me sit for a long time and
think about what I have just read. More often than not, these books are set in
the midst of a world war. The book thief, The boy in the striped pyjamas, Morris
Gleitzmans Once series, amongst others I have read with my heart pounding,
breath held in anticipation of the next tragedy my endeared characters would
have to face.
The book All the light we cannot see is packed with dense and detailed descriptions from two main perspectives which shift from past to present. A curious blind girl who lives with her beloved father in France and a genius orphan boy in Germany with a prodigious knack for fixing radios. Marie Laure's relationship with her 'papa' can only be described as lovingly tender. From the model towns and cities he builds for her use to the brail books he can barely afford to gift her on birthdays. It is never easy for a single parent yet with his nurture and care, Marie lives on as an inquisitive and kind-hearted girl, at ease with her disability. Werner is a gentle orphan with a burning desire to know how the world works. His notebook is filled with ideas like self rocking cradles and questions no one seems to have the answers to. He spends time with his little sister, Jetta and is constantly trying to discover new things. He tows her along the streets of the mining town where they live. Their discovery of a broken short wave radio is bounteous, as Werner fixes it and the children listen, enraptured to the voices and music which come out. He and Jetta are captivated by a broadcast from France hosted by an old gentleman who shares stories about the marvellous world of science and light spectrums. However their lives will irrevocably change once Hitler comes in power.
The story starts with Germanys invasion of France in 1940, when Marie and her father flee Paris to the sea port town of beautiful Saint Malo in order to take refuge with her great uncle Etienne, a recluse suffering from PTSD as a result of his participation in WW1. Here, Doerr shines light on the German occupation of France and how that changed the lives of ordinary French people who were intent on resisting. A main plot driving point is the most valuable stone in the world, entrusted in the care of Marie's father, who worked at the museum where it previously was contained. The plot is thickened when a Nazi expert starts a hunt for the stone which is rumoured to grant immortality to the keeper. Parallel to this, Werner's passion for science and his innate ability in radio mechanics earns him a place at the disturbing Nazi military elite training school. His aptitude and discipline puts him on front lines, where he proves adept at finding the senders of illegal radio transmissions. His mission brings him to the port of Saint Malo.
There is so much to discover in this book that re-reading it is almost a granted. Yet there is also much to lose in this book, the potential to change the world, the unconditional love of a father, innocent lives snuffed like candles. All the light we cannot see highlights the focus we place on the limited spectrum we can only see, even though there's so much more undiscovered, perhaps indicative of the millions of stories that were once lives that people led suffering in wars that we will never know. It is a dense book, but worth the read a thousand times over.
Read on guys, read on.
