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Discussion of All the Light We Cannot See--Spoilers

This is a book I avoided reading after I read a stellar review because reading about a blind girl and a young German boy caught up in the war struck me as too depressing. I felt I had had enough of the WWII horrors.
I can't remember what changed my mind - probably a sale on Amazon :-). In any case, I was so glad I changed my mind. This is my favorite book of the last year.
Marie-Laure ,the young blind girl, was not in the least pathetic. She was a strong and capable girl surrounded by people who loved her. Unexpectedly, it was Werner, the German boy, who almost broke my heart. His story showed how talented and good people sometimes cannot control the turbulent events around them. Compromises are made for survival, friends must be left behind.
I understand what you mean about the poetic language, but after I got into the book, I found I really liked it. Thanks for sharing the reactions of your German friend.
Stones from the River by Ursula Hegi also tells the story of the Nazis from the point of view of German people.

It took a few chapters to get into the structure, that gave me a little challenge keeping straight their ages as the story jumped back and forth.
Marie-Laure wasn't pathetic, but my heart really broke for Frederick! I could sense tragedy all over him from the get-go. (In my mind he was "Free-drick," from the first time he appeared. Can't explain that really, I guess that is "Frederick" in German.) Were there no other options for him? I couldn't tell. But surely a boy interested in nothing but birdwatching belonged in a regular school and a regular university. Which emphasized the irony of Werner, who before Hitler could only look forward to the coal mines but was given a chance to study radios - looked a tiny bit more like a meritocracy for just a second, didn't it?
I noted this, from page 291:
"At Madame's suggestion, they lie down in the weeds, and Marie-Laure listens to honeybees mine the flowers and tries to imagine their journeys as Etienne described them: each worker following a rivulet of odor, looking for ultraviolet patterns in the flowers, filling baskets on her hind legs with pollen grains, then navigating, drunk and heavy, all the way home.
"How do they know what parts to play, those little bees?"
How, indeed!

Something that surprised me was the big kid (forgot his name), lived through the war.


But I do think it's romantic, rather than realistic. One example: Marie-Laure and her father, don't have a cross word to say to each other in their long flight from Paris. She seems not to have a flaw of any kind. Werner oohs and ahs over her "purity." And a cursed diamond? Hmm.


My friend Monika described getting an American passport recently. It came with a congratulation that said something like, "Congratulations on receiving your U.S. passport. Now the world is yours." She said, "This would be unheard of in Germany. Since the war, it is considered shameful by most German citizens to be nationalistic or materialistic".
What did you think of the fact that the Jews are hardly mentioned. There is the woman in Frederick's elevator. We know she is taken because Frederick's mother gets her apartment. Also there are cars which are clearly transporting Jews. But this is a story about non-Jewish citizens. and the French occupation.

Strange as it may seem, this diamond - so essential to moving the plot along - was the only thing I gave absolutely no thought to. But Carol, Werner goes back to the kennel where Marie left the gem but does not take it. He takes it out of the tiny house and leaves it in the kennel, then puts the key in the tiny house. I see this as his romanticism; he has plans to find Marie-Laure in peacetime and together they can return for the diamond.
The little ironic twist of his death was a masterstroke, wasn't it? He got out being destined to dying in the mine like his father, only to step on a mine and die? Way to go, Doerr!

Who here has read 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea? Would I have been let in on any secrets had I known that book well before reading this one?

I loved this book. I liked the writing; it was beautiful without being flowery. The relationship between the Marie-Laurel and her father seemed dream-like and idealized, but not syrupy. The Sea of Flame was the fairy-tale thread that wove the story together, but I never thought that any of the rational characters believed in the curse. The Nazi diamond-hunter did, because he was grasping at any straw that would deliver him from his cancer. Doerr did a fantastic job of describing the world of Marie-Laure. I could almost imagine being blind and having my other senses heightened.
It didn’t occur to me that the prisoner who was killed at the school was Marie-Laure’s father. I just thought he was some poor unlucky man who had been at a concentration camp and they used him as an example. What made you think that, Carol? I probably missed something.
In the end, I loved how Jutte’s son Max had the same kind of curiosity that Werner did. It was almost like he had a second chance.


Of course her father may in fact have died in camp, since they never found out what became of him. That was a very realistic detail, I thought.
I never thought the prisoner they killed at the school was Marie-Laure's father. I think he was there to show the horror of their training and to give Frederick an opportunity to take a stand. The novel is realistic in that detail as well--those who take a stand pay a heavy, heavy price. No wonder so few do it!

Who here has read 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea? Would I have been let in on any secrets had I known that book well before reading this one?"
I haven't read it, but the excerpts made me think of doing so for the first time--what wonderful prose!


Didn't Marie-Laure throw something into the water? What was that?
I loved the language of the book. The story did grab me early on.

I haven't read Twenty Thousand Leagues either, but I wonder what I have been missing. Marie-Laure was absolutely enthralled with it. I loved this description of her enjoying the book in braille:
"Her fingers walk the tightropes of sentences; in her imagination, she walks the decks of the speedy two-funneled frigate called the Abraham Lincoln. She watches New York City recede; the forts of New Jersey salute her departure with cannons; channel markers bob in the swells. A lightship with twin beacons glides past as America recedes; ahead wait the great glittering prairies of the Atlantic."
Doerr, Anthony (2014-05-06). All the Light We Cannot See: A Novel (Kindle Locations 632-635). Scribner. Kindle Edition.


Now about Marie-Laure's father being the tortured prisoner: this never occurred to me until it was mentioned here, but I agree with Portia: since there are so many tidy bows throughout this book it must have been. He left for Paris in December, 1940, and was arrested within just a few days. He spent some days in France and then was transferred to Germany on a train. "The Prisoner" is chapter 70 (pg. 227) early in the section 'January 1941.' While I didn't have any trouble gathering this timeline, the guarantee that it was him will have to be searched for by somebody with a searchable Kindle. In "The Prisoner" it states that the prisoner is wearing mismatched shoes, so I expect that at some point prior to him leaving something about that would have been mentioned.
I have not read the Doerr interview yet, so I don't know if he talked about the lack of mothers in this book? Seriously, Marie-Laure doesn't have a mother and never seems to think about it; Werner and Jutta, orphans, of course don't have a mother. Even in Saint-Malo you might think there had never been a mother; her grandfather's room is preserved, not her grandparent's room. Frederick had a mother - maybe mother's were bad luck...


I liked this part. It made it seem real to me. It brought to mind an elderly Rose in the movie Titanic when she threw her jewel in the sea. When I came to the end, I wanted to believe it really happened. I have this experience less and less the older I get.
I loved this story. I didn't really want it to end, while at the same time, I couldn't stop reading. This, too, doesn't happen as much as it used to.


The novel certainly does tie up loose ends neatly, but I think for Marie-Laure's father to end up at Werner's school would be the cake-taking coincidence of the thing. But if the author's point is to assert everything is part of a grand pattern or design, it may be part of Doerr's own grand pattern.
Although I very much enjoyed reading it, I would never have given this novel a prize. The most "literary" thing about it, I think, is the way the structure of the novel echoes (or is echoed by) the many "pattern" motifs: puzzles, spirals, and so forth. It seems to pose the question: Do things move freely, randomly, or does everything move according to a design, one which we see reflected in stars, whelks, radio waves, etc.? A question our species has been asking for centuries if not millenia, but always worth asking again. Do others think the author ventures to answer it, or only to explore it?

I think he only ventures to explore it. There isn't any way to really answer it, is there?
There is at least one mother, Frederick has one. And there are several mother figures--Madam Menac, and the wonderful woman in the orphanage. Having so may lost mothers might be a way of saying how fractured the society was. All those children in the orphanage, and all those boys being trained to be heartless killers at the school. So many ways to use people as objects and weapons.

In its use of coincidence, ALL THE LIGHT reminds me of 19th century novels, for example the ones by Thomas Hardy that many of us read this past year.
The main coincidence was the radio program. However, I didn't feel that Doerr tried to tie everything else up, and it never occurred to me that the prisoner who was killed was Maire-Laure's father. But maybe I just missed it.
Frederick's mother could have won a worst mother of the year award. How could she leave her son in a place like that?


I think he only ventures to explore it. There isn't any way to really answer it, is there?
There is at least..."
Well, many people do assert that there is indeed a pattern, usually as an article of faith. I was trying to ask whether Doerr falls into this camp. Or how about his characters? Marie-Laure bats this around a bit. Does anyone feel she reaches a conclusion?
A related question, do others feel this is the main theme of the novel?


On a lower level, sadists were also in charge of Werner's school. I think it was more than just hazing. The treatment of the boys in that school, particularly gentle Frederick, was sickening.
I am reminded of A Tale for the Time Being, which we discussed on CR recently. One of the characters was forced into being a kamikaze pilot, where the instructor brutalized the boys, particularly anyone perceived as weak.
Maybe the theme is that too often we are prisoners of the times and the circumstances where we live in. Werner was certainly a sympathetic character, even though he was fighting for the wrong side. I wonder how we would have behaved in his situation.

In its use of coincidence, ALL THE LIGHT reminds me of 19th century novels, for example the ones by Thomas Hardy that many of us read this pas..."
I think the use of coincidence also shows the interconnectedness of people on both sides of war.
I think Frederick's mom loved her son, but definitely placed more importance in her husband's status in the Nazi party. She probably assumed her son would one day feel the same way.

I read in an interview that Frederik reminded Doerr of himself and also one of his sons, who are dreamers - no place for them in wartime.
Good observation that "the coincidence also shows the interconnectedness of people on both sides of war."
I think the writer wanted to show that there were people suffering and trapped in their roles on both sides of the war.

And I remember that it started working for me when I stopped trying to make it the real world and considered it kind of a fairy tale.

I thought it was a good book, but am a little surprised at all the raves.

"Do you ever wish," whispers Werner, "that you didn't have to go back?"
"Father needs me to be at Schulpforta. Mother too. It doesn't matter what I want."
"Of course it matters. I want to be an engineer. And you want to study birds. Be like that American painter in the swamps. Why else do any of this if not to become who we want to be?"
A stillness in the room. Out there in the trees beyond Frederick's window hangs an alien light.
"You're problem, Werner," says Frederick, "is that you still believe you own your life."
When Werner wakes, it's well past dawn. His head aches and his eyeballs feel heavy. Frederick is already dressed, wearing trousers, an ironed shirt, and a necktie, kneeling against the window with his nose against the glass. "Gray wagtail." He points. Werner looks past him into the naked lindens.
"Doesn't look like much, does he?" murmurs Frederick. "Hardly a couple of ounces of feathers and bones. But that bird can fly to Africa and back. Powered by bugs and worms and desire."
-------
The emphasis is, of course, all mine. It bears pointing out too, that when Werner found the Birds of America at Etienne's house, the plate he tore out and mailed to Frederick was... Gray Wagtail, male and female.


In 1952, some years after the war ended, my dad was stationed abroad in Wiesbaden. The devastation of WW II was everywhere, and although I was only 10, it made a big impression. Much of this novel resonated with my memories of the post war conditions I saw travelling with my parents during our three years in Europe.
I found Doerr"s descriptions very visual and true. Werner and Jutta were so well depicted as was the generous Frau Elena and The Children's House.
I liked the short alternating chapters, a structure that held my interest. The descriptions of the school Werner attended and the extreme rigidities of his life there were well done.
It was harder to imagine Marie-Laure's life in Paris. Her father was so caring and did so much for her - especially the models of her neighborhood which allowed her to go out somewhat independently.
It was even more difficult to accept the coincidence of Marie-Laure and Werner meeting in Saint-Malo. Nonetheless, it did give some excitement and edge to the climax of the story.
I enjoyed reading this novel. It certainly held my attention. The writing was superb. The characters were credible, and it was so well imagined.


Good point about Doerr working backwards.


Ann, I agree with what you said about sadists rising to the top. I thought briefly of ISIS and all the incidents of racial cleansing in the last decade or so.
Your comment that Doerr thought of Frederick as himself was very sad. He felt that he and his son, who are dreamers, have no place in wartime. How many brilliant dreamers has the world murdered?
Tonya, really found myself agreeing with your post. It offered insight into Frederick.
I also liked the setup of the book and found myself enchanted with all the wonderful characters. This has become one of my favorite books.

In its use of coincidence, ALL THE LIGHT reminds me of 19th century novels, for example the ones by Thomas Hardy that many of us r..."
I agree. She really did want that apartment.

This was one of my favorite books of last year. Initially I was slightly put off by the alternating sections, but once I got into the rhythm of it, I enjoyed it. I found that the comparisons between Werner and Marie Laure helped to highlight some of the differences of the cultures and the sides in the war. The discussion has brought back so much of the novel--thanks to all for the refresher.
The discussion of Werner and Friedrich at the school brought back to me just how uncomfortable I felt while reading those pages. On the other hand, I recall how intrigued I was at the descriptions of Marie Laure taking her walks in Paris and counting trees (or was it fence posts or some other landmark) to find her way home. There is so much humanity in this novel.

Storm drains!

Storm..."
Thanks--I never would have remembered without re-reading the book. Haven't had time right now.

Books mentioned in this topic
The Moor's Account (other topics)Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea (other topics)
A Tale for the Time Being (other topics)
Stones from the River (other topics)
Authors mentioned in this topic
Laila Lalami (other topics)Ursula Hegi (other topics)
Doerr created these short chapters intentionally. For those who are interested, he speaks about it in this interview:
http://therumpus.net/2014/05/the-rump...
For me, the most moving part of our long discussion about the book last night was the reaction of Monika, who sat next to me and spoke after I gave a few reactions. Monika grew up in Germany and still visits for long stretches of time. Her family lives there. She said, “These are my stories. I heard them around the table. This is my life. I loved the book. It captured the horror and what war did to people.” She then went on to tell us about her father who exaggerated his vision problems so that he could stay on the family farm. He intentionally failed eye test after eye test and found a doctor who was willing to say his vision was too poor for him to fight. Near the end of the war, he was called up anyway. He fought, was shot in the leg, spent time in the hospital, and deserted. For two months, as the war ended, he hid in an attic above the barn. His father knew, but his mother and siblings didn’t. Prisoners of war worked on the farm and they knew and were kind to him. “Everyone my age in Germany has stories about the war, about their parents during the war.”
I felt humbled by Monika’s experience of the book…I was experiencing it as a literary event for the first hundred pages. She felt the book in her gut. All the way through. How did you experience it?