At the start of World War II, Marie-Laure LeBlanc is a blind
adolescent. She lives with her father in Paris. Werner Pfennig is also an
adolescent. He lives with his younger sister in a German orphanage.
All
the Light We Cannot See by Anthony Doerr chronicles how the war affects their lives and how they respond. Both
children are highly intelligent. Their
intelligence guides them through the challenges they face.
Marie-Laure and her father leave Paris as the German army
takes over. They end up with an uncle and a housekeeper in Saint-Malo on the
north coast of France. When the Germans advance to Saint-Malo, questions of
survival and resistance challenge Marie-Laure and the others who share her
sanctuary. In the interim, she lives in a
world of sounds, smells, Braille books, and music. She is curious and
concerned, but never terrified.
Werner has a natural talent for math and electronics. He fixes
all kinds of electronic equipment, especially radios. This talent opens one opportunity after another. He is
enrolled in an elite school and from there he joins the conflict locating resistance
transmitters. Given the war, this is a relatively safe and comfortable
assignment.
From humble beginnings, both children end up in positions of
privilege and make decisions of privilege, sometimes choosing individual
advantage and sometimes more altruistic alternatives. The author, using the metaphor
of a frog in a cooking pot of cold water, makes the case for the gradual
corruption of good people.
“Some people are weak in some ways, sir. Others in other
ways.”
“Everyone is trapped in their roles: orphans, cadets,…,the
old Jewess who lives upstairs.”
A third thread concerns an invaluable stone, Sea of Flames,
which Sargent Major Reinhold von Rumpel searches to steal for a glorious German
museum.
The book is full of beautiful descriptions, especially from
the point of view of blind Marie-Laure.
“She walks. Now there are cold round pebbles beneath her
feet. Now crackling weeds. Now something smoother: wet, unwrinkled sand. She
bends and spreads her fingers. It’s like cold silk. Cold, sumptuous silk unto
which the sea has laid offerings: pebbles, shells, barnacles. Tiny slips of
wrack. Her fingers dig and reach; the drops of rain touch the back of her neck,
the backs of her hands. The sand pulls the heat from her fingertips, from the
soles of her feet.”
The book is a
beautifully written exploration of the conflict between innocence and
intelligence on one side and brutality and survival on the other. The author
does not allow simple responses to complex situations
but still allows for some optimism, at least for the thoughtful and clever.