Review: The Nightingale

The Nightingale by Kristin Hannah
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

"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. There were no parades for us when it was over, no medals or mentions in history books. We did what we had to during the war, and when it was over, we picked up the pieces and started our lives over."

If I could give this story 6 out of 5 stars I would. I am so overwhelmed with how deeply this story touched me - it haunted my dreams at night, I thought about it all day. It both sickened and saddened me, fascinated and terrified me. We've all heard the stories, we have listened to the real-life accounts of survivors, learned about the major battles in school and the horrifying statistics and figures that came out after WWII ended, and to this day, we still remember. Yet this isn't merely a story about the war as a whole, but rather it is about the war as endured, fought, and survived by the women. This is their story. This is their battle. And this is their victory.

I am not at all new to the subject-matter in this book, yet this story, written so beautifully, so delicately, brings everything I ever learned about the war to a whole new level. Kristin Hannah is a remarkable story-teller; she pens the most beautiful sentences that evoke such emotion and sensation within you. The detail is fantastic, her research is incredible - so much so that my own morbid curiosity was satiated time and again through her intricate weaving of fact and fiction.

A dark, emotional, and powerful story lies within these pages. I cried - I never cry while reading, honestly - but I did, big tears, because of how emotionally charged that ending is after feeling like I myself had gone through Hell and back with the Rossignol sisters. I know their stories in this are fictional, but the fact is that...these things really happened, there is truth in everything that the Rossignol sisters endured and achieved and lost during the war. I feel ignorant that I hadn't really known just how bad it became for the occupied countries, for France - I assumed it was terrible, but not anywhere near as terrible as what I just read. And that is always the mistake, assuming. To know that similar atrocities endure today, all around the world, is sickening.

I smile at them...Because of them, I know now what matters, and it is not what I have lost. It is my memories. Wounds heal. Love lasts. We remain.

I cannot do this story or these these characters the justice they deserve. I cannot say that, if I were ever in a similar situation, I would have had a similar strength to endure and to carry on. But they inspire me, the whole cast of them, those real and those fictional, and will continue to do so forever after.


View all my reviews