All the Light We Cannot See, Paperback Book

All the Light We Cannot See Paperback

3 out of 5 (2 ratings)

Description

WINNER OF THE 2015 PULITZER PRIZE FOR FICTIONNATIONAL BOOK AWARD FINALISTNEW YORK TIMES BESTSELLERWINNER OF THE CARNEGIE MEDAL FOR FICTIONA beautiful, stunningly ambitious novel about a blind French girl and a German boy whose paths collide in occupied France as both try to survive the devastation of World War II

Information

Other Formats

£8.99

£7.69

 
Free Home Delivery

on all orders

 
Pick up orders

from local bookshops

Reviews

Showing 1 - 2 of 2 reviews.

Review by
3

A Second World War novel that ISN'T about the holocaust - and is probably all the better for it. What did it mean to be French in occupied France - or an army-age German in Hitler's Germany? The book flits between the two protagonists whose lives are destined to collide, and I was eager to reach the denouement ... but it felt a little anti-climactic. Still finely written though.

Review by
3

Between this and <i>Gone With The Wind</i>, I am nearly <i>un</i>-reading books at the moment. Anthony Doerr's prize-winning novel is undoubtedly politically correct and historically informative - I didn't know about St Malo - but dear lord! Ponderous isn't the word. I kept falling asleep and dreaming my own paragraphs. The plot sounds intriguing - a blind girl living in Paris moves to St Malo with her father, who has been entrusted with a rare diamond called the 'Sea of Flames', and - eventually - crosses paths with a young German soldier on the night when St Malo is bombed to bits by the Allies. And that - bar a whole lot of backstory and jumping back and forth between curious, vulnerable Marie-Laure and intelligent, introspective Werner - is that, for 500 pages. I didn't connect with any of the characters, who read - possibly intentionally - like figures in a fairytale, and started page counting very early on. When I finally did reach the final chapters, Doerr adopted the annoying trick of skipping ahead thirty years, and then seventy years, presuming that all readers prefer nice, neat endings. Plodding and predictable.