Guernsey, a Channel Island located closer to France than England, was occupied by Nazis during WWII, the only English territory to suffer German occupation. The novel records the stories surrounding a somewhat quirky group of islanders who created a literary society as a pretense to give them an alibi for breaking the occupation-imposed curfew. The literary society takes on a life of its own, all the more so when a London-based journalist joins their circle, first from afar and then in person, and is smitten with island life.The book is told almost entirely through letters, a device which might seem clever at first, but is stretched thin and I thought it grew tiresome in some parts. Apparently multiple daily postal deliveries did make it possible to maintain back-and-forth communication almost as if it were as instantaneous as email, even in 1946, at least in London and larger cities. But sometimes it isn’t successful in propelling the plot forward.
I can see why this novel had such a cult following with book clubs. Books are held in high regard. Have a look at these quotes:
That’s what I love about reading: one tiny thing will interest you in a book, and that tiny thing will lead you onto another book, and another bit there will lead you onto a third book. It’s geometrically progressive—all with no end in sight, and for no other reason than sheer enjoyment. page 9
Reading good books ruins you for enjoying bad books. page 34
The characters in this novel are as colorful as they come. It’s sort of an ensemble cast, reminiscent of a PBS series like Elizabeth Gaskell’s Cranford. One wonders when it will be translated to film. It’s probably just a matter of time.
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