Doerr’s “All the Light” illuminates

Imagine you are young, female, blind and living in France during World War II. Imagine again that you are young, male, have a gift for understanding radios and grow up as an orphan in the Nazi war machine. This book, an outstanding piece of historical fiction, documents the young lives of Marie-Laure and Werner, how one day their lives intersect, and how they ultimately save each other.

The setting of “All the Light We Cannot See” travels back and forth from an occupied France to Germany, and eventually to one particular place, the walled city of St. Malo, off the coast of Brittany. In any place that Marie-Laure finds herself, our vision is microscopically tunneled down to how many steps there are from one storm drain to the next, from one flight of stairs to the next, and what her fingers feel and what she smells as she makes her way to the sea, to the market, or to the museum where her father works. Like Marie-Laure, we readers are blind, and are totally dependent on what Marie’s other senses discover in their minute to minute reconnaissance. Meanwhile, we learn from Werner that life in the Nazi military is very disturbing, and survival in it requires an immediate shift of ethics.

This book shows the horrors of WWII—the senseless and often twisted deaths and the horrible betrayals. Yet there are heroes and heroines, and thus the images of light and darkness play off of each other as Doerr’s story slowly evolves. Character development is key. Werner and Marie-Laure both have incredible will, and they are so young and smart. Will they live? If so, with what compromises?

After finishing “Schindler’s List” in 1993 and being totally wrenched by the story, I promised myself that I’d never read another book regarding WWII. Twenty-two years later, I’ve broken my promise, with similar results. But it’s the play of light that I’ll remember more than the poignant story line. And it’s the satisfaction of reading a book well written I’ll feel more than the stomach ache the book’s disturbing images evoke. Please add “All the Light We Cannot See” to your reading list. It’s the light you’ll remember.