This book is about the battles raging within the quiet walls of woman’s soul.
When I first saw the short description for Sarah’s Key by Tatiana de Rosnay, I thought it would be a cute book for young readers (well, as cute as Jewish victims during WWII can possibly be)…but oh, I was so wrong. It was a good book, but I wouldn’t say cute. More like tumultuous. Overview:…
In short, the French are dynamic and complicated and amazing. Pretty much a recurring theme as I’ve been exploring the world through literature (and food).
There’s more to light or truth than what we can physically see; that light is almost a tangible essence that lifts us up. Indeed, there’s light all around that can make us our better selves if we let it. It’s a light that Marie-Laure, blind as she was, could see, while Werner, with all this brilliance and knowledge, was blind to until the very end:
The point of this book is to take a little piece of the suffering and pain and desperation of those nameless, countless soldiers, and swallow it whole until we carry a bit of them within our hearts.
Those who fought against the Nazis were people who had integrity, who acted despite the hardship, who knew what was truly important in life…and death.
People are awful, which is what Madame Bovary by Gustave Flaubert leads you to believe. Which is why I’m planning to lambaste this book on my blog today. Which is why, if you are a fan of French literature or—more specifically—Madame Bovary, you should avoid this post like the plague. I’m too riled up to be nice. Overview: Emma Bovary…
This book shows a cross-section of life within a modern city with an ancient class structure, proving that no matter how enlightened we are, we still tend to view others—and ourselves—along lines drawn in the sand centuries ago.