The Nightingale by Kristin Hannah | Book Review | August 2021

 I'm a massive lover of historical fiction. That may seem like a paradox, as many historical fiction tales involve death and destruction, so why should I love it. Well, I love delving in to the (fictional) lives of those characters that have lived through the destruction of their identities and whole existence, and their survival. The Nightingale is most definitely one of those. The main protaganist is Vianne Mauriac and her brave will and survival of helping Allied troops escape Nazi occupied France. Alongside the tumultuous family dynamic, her narrative is entwined with her rebellious sister, Isabelle Rossignol. Vianne is a mother of one at the start, yet her litter grows like the size of her heart helping the discriminated in her own way in occupied France. Vianne and Isabelle's  childhood consisted of the father's personality shifting when he returns from the Great War, and the death of their mother. Their happy, nuclear family has diminished both physically and mentally. Vianne Mauriac and Isabelle Rossignol live in France when the Second World War breaks out in 1939. Yet, Isabelle's narrative stretches through analepsis in Oregon, USA. She is at the end of her life, so she tells her life story and the utter heroics of her journey and those that were involved in the resistance against the Nazis too. 

In particular, I love the way Hannah describes place. The way she describes Paris as a worn-torn transformation of Nazi fascism, and the cataclysm of evil for the war. Everyone is scared. On the other hand, in the background of Nazism, the resistance is increasing its control narrowly creating a hood over their true crimes against the enemy. In Carriveau, where Vianne lives and breathes, there is a sense of evading the evil that is seeping in to their houses and lands. When Isabelle accompanies the allied troops over the Pyrenees into Spain, you can feel the atmosphere change and the way Hannah depicts both freedom and anxiety by escaping through the tall mountains and hidden walkways. 

Hannah's protaganists are women, mainly heroes in war fiction are men. That's the tradition, yet there is strength in Isabelle and Vianne along with vulnerability and sensitivity that women hold dearly to their characters. On page 436, Isabelle explores this with: 'men tell stories I say. It is the truest, simplest answer to his question. Women get on with it. For us it was a shadow war'. This quote depicts the true nature of how women were and are represented in war, and Hannah allows the story of sisters and individuals and their heroics in a barbaric conflict. The men in the narrative aren't patronising to the women's strength, Vianne and Isabelle together, kill the Nazi that is lodging in her French home, putting themselves at risk altogether. 

The particular feature in Vianne's journey in the novel is poignant, and impressionable on those lives she saved. She took in and saved many orphaned Jews, and other children whose mothers had been taken by the Nazis. This feature was so heart-felt, as I found myself thinking what would've those vulnerable children have done without the care of Vianne and the orphanage. She took over the care for her neighbour's baby, Ari as she was taken by the Nazis for being foreign-born and with Jewish ancestry. During the end of the novel, she has given Ari a new name, Daniel. He is hers, and he understands that Vianne is his mother. Yet, Ari's family arrive after the war to collect him and its the blood connection that drags him away to family in America. The devastation of Vianne trying to know what's best for Ari, and ignoring the selfish urge in her heart of keeping Ari for herself as she has brought him up through the conflict and loss of the war. 

Isabelle's story is an even more devastating circumstance. Even before the war she was a feisty and adored creature in the town of Carriveau. She was a beauty, she most definitely turned heads 

The parallel narrative of the Second World War, and Vianne's new life in America allows us to meet Julian, her son. By symbolising Julian as a character of growth and identity in the modern world, Hannah captures the power of secrets. See, Julian is not the son of her husband Antoine. He is a product of the rape of Vianne by a Nazi living in her house. It's heartbreaking, as Vianne is a victim almost all her life, but 'she gets on with it', as previously quoted from the novel. Her relationship with her son shares an insight in to the dynamics of an elderly parent and a over-obsessive offspring to an extent. It reminds me that just because you've known your parents all of your life, doesn't mean that you should forget that they had a life before you were even a thought in their minds. Julian doesn't know about his mother's past and role in the war. She obviously hides quite a large secret that involves him from it too. Yet, there's some magic in secrets, it's only you that knows the real truth and I think Vianne has comfort in that, especially as she's at the end of her life. 

The ending of the novel, especially for Isabelle is devastating. She fought her way through the war, saving many allied lives, yet she is transported to a concentration camp when she is caught entering the Pyrenees. The novel is a testament to the survival of World War II, in an occupied country where the fight is not just physical but mental, and for the fight for freedom and truth. One of the last phrases in the novel, 'wounds heal. Love lasts. We remain' (p.438) is the real message to take from the novel. The power of love and loyalty and the how time fixes everything, even though wounds can remain deep. 

Happy Reading, 

Rose x