Two Stories One Reality

Painting with words makes a static printed page come alive.

A great author draws you into a story with a few well chosen words, and keeps you in the world he or she has drawn.  You never want to leave, as you read on.  At the end of the book, you feel a little sad, and a part of you remains in that world for hours, maybe days.

When that world intersects with reality, you enter a whole other dimension.

I've been reading a book called "All The Light We Cannot See" by Anthony Doerr.  It's the second book of his I have read.  The first, "Cloud Cuckoo Land" is now on my personal list of "Best books I have ever read".  I strongly suspect "All The Light We Cannot See" will be joining it.

"All The Light We Cannot See" is a story of two children growing up in 30's and early 40's Europe. Marie-Laure lives in Paris and lost her sight at age six.  She is being raised by her father, who is a locksmith working at the Museum of Natural History.  When the Nazis breach Paris, father and daughter flee to the French city of Saint-Malo, where an uncle of her father lives.  Meanwhile...

In Germany, orphaned siblings Werner Pfennig and his younger sister Jutta grow up in an orphanage. Their father, a miner, died years ago in the mines.  Boys in the orphanage all share a common fate - they leave the orphanage at 15 to work in the mines.  But Werner has a special talent for radio electronics, and the Nazis send him to a special school for training instead.  Eventually, he joins the military and is stationed in Saint-Malo.

I know the lives of Marie-Laure and Werner will intersect, but how, I do not yet know.

What I do know is that Anthony Doerr is one of the most talented word painting author I have ever read.  It was surreal, reading his description of people fleeing Paris in advance of the Nazis, because as I was reading the passages, the TV was showing coverage of the Russians invading Ukraine.  Civilians packed train stations trying to get out of the country.  Many abandoned their cars to walk because driving was hopeless. 

The fleeing on TV, the fleeing in the book, all identical, all merging into one terrifying reality.  Seeing it live, you feel like this author was there on the scene, in Paris, in Saint-Malo. Only the names and nationalities of the people have changed.

It could be anyone.  It could have been you or me.

A bit later in the book (it weaves back and forth in time) the shelling of Saint-Malo is described.  Allow me to share this passage with you:

"Artillery has stopped for the moment, and the predawn fires inside the walls [of the city of Saint-Malo] take on a steady middle life, an adulthood.  The western edge of the city has become a holocaust of crimson and carmine... The largest has curdled into a pillar like the cloud of tephra and ash and steam that billows atop an erupting volcano.  From afar, the smoke appears strangely solid, as though carved from luminous wood."

Will this be the fate of cities in Ukraine?

Two stories, over 70 years apart, but one horrifying reality. 

All to satisfy the ambitions of one man.

Just like all those years ago....