The Nightingale by Kristin Hannah was recommended to me by several gals in our book club. Both of these ladies told me this book is the best they have ever read, meaning my expectations were quite high prior to starting it, and I didn’t know much aside from the fact that the story takes place during the Second World War in France.
The plot begins when the war first breaks out and tells the story of two sisters who could not be more different. The elder sister, Vianne, is married and has a daughter named Sofie, while her much younger sister, Isabelle, reminds me of myself – pigheaded, determined, and hell bent on speaking out when it comes to what is right and what is wrong.
The book shifts back and forth between the sisters, telling each of their stories and what they experienced living in France under Nazi control, in addition to the people they meet and become entangled with.
My Oma and Opa were living in Europe when the Second World War began, and both of them experienced and witnessed unimaginable atrocities. Reading this book reminded me of the reality of war and what its victims face, and while I was aware of these things before reading this book, reading about these horrors in detail absolutely broke me. I think this is a testament to Hannah’s writing; her depiction of the war and the sisters’ endurance is eerily compelling, realistic, and moving.
The book was tremendously educational in the sense that I learned things about World War Two I would not have learned elsewhere.
I firmly believe this is a book everyone should read at some point or another. We can never forget what was done during World War Two and the near extermination of Judaism, and while it was extremely difficult to read at times, I think the least we can do to honour those who endured these atrocities is to read about their stories. They lived it. The least we can do is read it.
Photo by Rodrigo Rodriguez on Unsplash
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