** spoiler alert ** After recently reading several heavy tomes, I was ready for a piece of light fiction, but maybe not fiction lite. I will say right away that there are occasional fine moments, such as an episode when a parrot assists in detaining a would-be thief of Oscar Wilde letters. And early on I was readily enticed into the epistolary format and 1946 Guernsey – and at first could hardly put it down.

But then about midway things went flat. Perky Juliet, saintly Elizabeth, mean witch Adelaide, good soldier Christian, and a clutch of Guernsey eccentrics. I kept waiting for one of them to develop as a character. They all remained steadfastly in their 2-dimensional molds.

And the suitor who was just too slick and good looking; it was inevitable that he would be trumped by a literate and kindly pig farmer. I could see that one coming a mile away. I turned a lot of pages wondering how many more epistles it would take until Juliet married Dawsey and adopted Elizabeth’s orphaned child, an unrealistic four-year old endowed with a maturity suitable to a child at least twice that age.

A more rewarding turn in the book’s plot line is that it shows the connections people can and do make over literature. It seemed realistic that people stifled by military occupation might find refuge in a literary society. Moments of seeing people as they shared books were among the best parts. And I enjoyed the loving portrait the authors created of Guernsey.