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A review by richardrbecker
The Paris Library by Janet Skeslien Charles
hopeful
slow-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? A mix
- Strong character development? No
- Loveable characters? No
- Diverse cast of characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? It's complicated
3.5
The Paris Library has plenty to offer as a historical novel. It's based on the true World War II story of the heroic librarians at the American Library in Paris, with ample amounts of romance, friendship, and books. I loved the concept.
What it doesn't always have is the tension one might expect in any book with book-burning Nazis invading Paris. The narration tends to underwhelm the action with an intellectualism that sometimes gets in the way of empathy and emotion.
Everybody is so proper. It isn't until the end that any feeling of fear or desperation takes hold — and at the hands of the French instead of the Germans — as newly liberated French enact revenge on Nazi sympathizers and benefactors. (Never mind their covert contributions to the resistance.) Even then, the savagery feels restrained and removed.
For some readers, the heartwarming aspect of the book will undoubtedly make up for the tension. So will many of the elements Skeslien Charles pulled from her research. The authenticity rings true because so much of the novel is true as our young heroine packs books to send to British and Jewish colleagues in apparent defiance of the Nazi's occupation.
Alongside young Parisian Odile Souchet, the author shares a second less interesting story that centers around Lily Jacobsen, a seventh-grader who lives next door to Odile in Montana some four decades later. Lily is a bit boorish, but we keep reading to learn how Odile found herself there. Skeslien Charles also alternates the narratives, helping us bridge the two timeframes — even when we would rather find ourselves in the 1940s.
The point of toggling between the two is an attempt to draw unlikely similarities between Odile and a conventional, small-town teenager. Lily is mostly there to make wild accusations and learn a life lesson or two about how to treat friends — something Odile did in France with much higher stakes and consequences. Although, once again, other than food rationing and turnips, the novel never really makes anything feel much like a hardship, making it interesting but firmly grounded in how we shape relationships rather than the period. As a World War II story, this was one of the weakest. But I don't ultimately think of it as one.
What it doesn't always have is the tension one might expect in any book with book-burning Nazis invading Paris. The narration tends to underwhelm the action with an intellectualism that sometimes gets in the way of empathy and emotion.
Everybody is so proper. It isn't until the end that any feeling of fear or desperation takes hold — and at the hands of the French instead of the Germans — as newly liberated French enact revenge on Nazi sympathizers and benefactors. (Never mind their covert contributions to the resistance.) Even then, the savagery feels restrained and removed.
For some readers, the heartwarming aspect of the book will undoubtedly make up for the tension. So will many of the elements Skeslien Charles pulled from her research. The authenticity rings true because so much of the novel is true as our young heroine packs books to send to British and Jewish colleagues in apparent defiance of the Nazi's occupation.
Alongside young Parisian Odile Souchet, the author shares a second less interesting story that centers around Lily Jacobsen, a seventh-grader who lives next door to Odile in Montana some four decades later. Lily is a bit boorish, but we keep reading to learn how Odile found herself there. Skeslien Charles also alternates the narratives, helping us bridge the two timeframes — even when we would rather find ourselves in the 1940s.
The point of toggling between the two is an attempt to draw unlikely similarities between Odile and a conventional, small-town teenager. Lily is mostly there to make wild accusations and learn a life lesson or two about how to treat friends — something Odile did in France with much higher stakes and consequences. Although, once again, other than food rationing and turnips, the novel never really makes anything feel much like a hardship, making it interesting but firmly grounded in how we shape relationships rather than the period. As a World War II story, this was one of the weakest. But I don't ultimately think of it as one.