Finishing the book has left me empty. The ending suggests that life goes on after the war, but I cannot move on. Full of questions, thoughts, emotions. Shocked. Dazed. I felt so angry in many moments of the book but the story has changed me. I cannot pinpoint the exact reason why I loved this book because if I dissected the plot, I am still confused in many places: why did the author decide to let Frederick live and suffer? What did the owl mean when the story circled back to Frederick? Why did the memory of Volkemeir’s grandfather give him the strength and hope to attempt the escape from the cellar? There were also many moments that were so beautiful and clever. I felt conflicted during the scene where Jutta meets Marie-Laure. I wanted so badly for Marie-Laure to tell Jutta that Werner saved her life three times. I hoped that it would fill Jutta’s hole of missing her brother. But, the author decided otherwise and Marie-Laure offers to mail the only remaining recording that remains of her grandfather: light, on the other side of the moon. The light we cannot see. At 5am, when I suddenly read that Werner dies, I wanted to throw the book away. How can he die when everything is finally coming together for him? He’s found his purpose, found his lover. But that just highlights the tragedy of life. The unpredictable moments. Werner tried so hard to escape the mines that his father died from, just to die from another form of mine. Or when Marie-Laure gives up in the attic and starts playing the recording, allowing Von Rumpel to come and get her. I wanted to yell at her. What are you thinking? After further reflection, her actions are logical, just not the fairytale I expected. She knew what Rumpel wanted, and she did not care to have it. Instead, she cared for the people in her life like Madame Manec, Etienne and her father. Why wouldn’t she surrender it, especially after five days of suffering? How much strength should a person logically have? I was also moved by Marie-Laure’s father. His unwavering love and faith in his daughter. His every attempt to protect Marie and reassure her even during his suffering in the camps. One of my favourite characters is also Volkemeir. The way he is portrayed as a seemingly stereotypical and loyal German boy, yet there is a deeper layer in him that is slightly revealed at the training school when he shares a mutual understanding with Werner, that “they” (the brainwashing propaganda and leaders) don’t care. I found it even more profound when he reveals after the war that he grieves and suffers from the actions he took during the war. The people he killed. Fundamentally, the inner resistance from Frederick, Volkmeir and Werner shifted my views on WWII. Although I knew that children were forced into the war, my perspective was that they were so utterly brainwashed, they could no longer tell right from wrong. But instead, the author reveals that some children knew, but were powerless. Even if they resisted like Frederick, they only suffered the consequences of their bravery. One last thing I really liked was Marie-Laure’s reflection on Werner at the end of the book, after Jutta gives her the little house and she discovers that the stone is not inside. Werner understood that she did not care for the value of the stone and he was also able to resist the temptation. “From her memory, Dr. Geffard whispers: That something so small could be so beautiful. Worth so much. Only the strongest people can turn away from feelings like that.” Overall, even though the author didn’t tie every loose end and wrap up the book like a perfect fairytale present, I appreciated the choice. That is how life is. Imperfect. Cruel but real.
← All books