As unique as its title, this novel consists of a series of letters between an inquisitive London author and several plucky survivors of the Nazi occupation of an English Channel island. This Discover Book selection has been a hardcover bestseller and a resilient backlist title in trade paperback and NOOK Book.
The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society: A Novelby Mary Ann Shaffer, Annie Barrows
#1 NEW YORK TIMES BESTSELLER
“I wonder how the book got to Guernsey? Perhaps there is some sort of secret homing instinct in books that brings them to their perfect readers.” January 1946: London is emerging from the shadow of the Second World War, and writer Juliet Ashton is looking for her next book subject. Who could/i>/b>/i>
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#1 NEW YORK TIMES BESTSELLER
“I wonder how the book got to Guernsey? Perhaps there is some sort of secret homing instinct in books that brings them to their perfect readers.” January 1946: London is emerging from the shadow of the Second World War, and writer Juliet Ashton is looking for her next book subject. Who could imagine that she would find it in a letter from a man she’s never met, a native of the island of Guernsey, who has come across her name written inside a book by Charles Lamb….
As Juliet and her new correspondent exchange letters, Juliet is drawn into the world of this man and his friends—and what a wonderfully eccentric world it is. The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society—born as a spur-of-the-moment alibi when its members were discovered breaking curfew by the Germans occupying their island—boasts a charming, funny, deeply human cast of characters, from pig farmers to phrenologists, literature lovers all.
Juliet begins a remarkable correspondence with the society’s members, learning about their island, their taste in books, and the impact the recent German occupation has had on their lives. Captivated by their stories, she sets sail for Guernsey, and what she finds will change her forever.
Written with warmth and humor as a series of letters, this novel is a celebration of the written word in all its guises, and of finding connection in the most surprising ways.
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8th January, 1946
Mr. Sidney Stark, Publisher
Stephens & Stark Ltd.
21 St. James's Place
Susan Scott is a wonder. We sold over forty copies of the book, which was very pleasant, but much more thrilling from my standpoint was the food. Susan managed to procure ration coupons for icing sugar and real eggs for the meringue. If all her literary luncheons are going to achieve these heights, I won't mind touring about the country. Do you suppose that a lavish bonus could spur her on to butter? Let's try it—you may deduct the money from my royalties.
Now for my grim news. You asked me how work on my new book is progressing. Sidney, it isn't.
English Foibles seemed so promising at first. After all, one should be able to write reams about the Society to Protest the Glorification of the English Bunny. I unearthed a photograph of the Vermin Exterminators' Trade Union, marching down an Oxford street with placards screaming "Down with Beatrix Potter!" But what is there to write about after a caption? Nothing, that's what.
I no longer want to write this book—my head and my heart just aren't in it. Dear as Izzy Bickerstaff is—and was—to me, I don't want to write anything else under that name. I don't want to be considered a light-hearted journalist anymore. I do acknowledge that making readers laugh—or at least chuckle—during the war was no mean feat, but I don't want to do it anymore. I can't seem to dredge up any sense of proportion or balance these days, and God knows one cannot write humor without them.
In the meantime, I am very happy Stephens & Stark is making money on Izzy Bickerstaff Goes to War. It relieves my conscience over the debacle of my Anne Bront biography.
My thanks for everything and love,
P.S. I am reading the collected correspondence of Mrs. Montagu. Do you know what that dismal woman wrote to Jane Carlyle? "My dear little Jane, everybody is born with a vocation, and yours is to write charming little notes." I hope Jane spat on her.
From Sidney to Juliet
10th January, 1946
Miss Juliet Ashton
23 Glebe Place
London S.W. 3
Congratulations! Susan Scott said you took to the audience at the luncheon like a drunkard to rum—and they to you—so please stop worrying about your tour next week. I haven't a doubt of your success. Having witnessed your electrifying performance of "The Shepherd Boy Sings in the Valley of Humiliation" eighteen years ago, I know you will have every listener coiled around your little finger within moments. A hint: perhaps in this case, you should refrain from throwing the book at the audience when you finish.
Susan is looking forward to ushering you through bookshops from Bath to Yorkshire. And of course, Sophie is agitating for an extension of the tour into Scotland. I've told her in my most infuriating older-brother manner that It Remains To Be Seen. She misses you terribly, I know, but Stephens & Stark must be impervious to such considerations.
I've just received Izzy's sales figures from London and the Home Counties—they are excellent. Again, congratulations!
Don't fret about English Foibles; better that your enthusiasm died now than after six months spent writing about bunnies. The crass commercial possibilities of the idea were attractive, but I agree that the topic would soon grow horribly fey. Another subject—one you'll like—will occur to you.
Dinner one evening before you go? Say when.
P.S. You write charming little notes.
From Juliet to Sidney
11th January, 1946
Yes, lovely—can it be somewhere on the river? I want oysters and champagne and roast beef, if obtainable; if not, a chicken will do. I am very happy that Izzy's sales are good. Are they good enough that I don't have to pack a bag and leave London?
Since you and S&S have turned me into a moderately successful author, dinner must be my treat.
P.S. I did not throw "The Shepherd Boy Sings in the Valley of Humiliation" at the audience. I threw it at the elocution mistress. I meant to cast it at her feet, but I missed.
From Juliet to Sophie Strachan
12th January, 1946
Mrs. Alexander Strachan
Feochan Farm by Oban Argyll
Of course I'd adore to see you, but I am a soul-less, will-less automaton. I have been ordered by Sidney to Bath, Colchester, Leeds, and several other garden spots I can't recall at the moment, and I can't just slither off to Scotland instead. Sidney's brow would lower—his eyes would narrow—he would stalk. You know how nerve-racking it is when Sidney stalks.
I wish I could sneak away to your farm and have you coddle me. You'd let me put my feet on the sofa, wouldn't you? And then you'd tuck blankets around me and bring me tea? Would Alexander mind a permanent resident on his sofa? You've told me he is a patient man, but perhaps he would find it annoying.
Why am I so melancholy? I should be delighted at the prospect of reading Izzy to an entranced audience. You know how I love talking about books, and you know how I adore receiving compliments. I should be thrilled. But the truth is that I'm gloomy—gloomier than I ever was during the war. Everything is so broken, Sophie: the roads, the buildings, the people. Especially the people.
This is probably the aftereffect of a horrid dinner party I went to last night. The food was ghastly, but that was to be expected. It was the guests who unnerved me—they were the most demoralizing collection of individuals I've ever encountered. The talk was of bombs and starvation. Do you remember Sarah Morecroft? She was there, all bones and gooseflesh and bloody lipstick. Didn't she use to be pretty? Wasn't she mad for that horse-riding fellow who went up to Cambridge? He was nowhere in evidence; she's married to a doctor with grey skin who clicks his tongue before he speaks. And he was a figure of wild romance compared to my dinner partner, who just happened to be a single man, presumably the last one on earth—oh Lord, how miserably mean-spirited I sound!
I swear, Sophie, I think there's something wrong with me. Every man I meet is intolerable. Perhaps I should set my sights lower—not so low as the grey doctor who clicks, but a bit lower. I can't even blame it on the war—I was never very good at men, was I?
Do you suppose the St. Swithin's furnace-man was my one true love? Since I never spoke to him, it seems unlikely, but at least it was a passion unscathed by disappointment. And he had that beautiful black hair. After that, you remember, came the Year of Poets. Sidney's quite snarky about those poets, though I don't see why, since he introduced me to them. Then poor Adrian. Oh, there's no need to recite the dread rolls to you, but Sophie—what is the matter with me? Am I too particular? I don't want to be married just to be married. I can't think of anything lonelier than spending the rest of my life with someone I can't talk to, or worse, someone I can't be silent with.
What a dreadful, complaining letter. You see? I've succeeded in making you feel relieved that I won't be stopping in Scotland. But then again, I may—my fate rests with Sidney.
Kiss Dominic for me and tell him I saw a rat the size of a terrier the other day.
Love to Alexander and even more to you,
From Dawsey Adams, Guernsey, Channel Islands, to Juliet
12th January, 1946
Miss Juliet Ashton
81 Oakley Street
London S.W. 3
Dear Miss Ashton,
My name is Dawsey Adams, and I live on my farm in St. Martin's Parish on Guernsey. I know of you because I have an old book that once belonged to you—the Selected Essays of Elia, by an author whose name in real life was Charles Lamb. Your name and address were written inside the front cover.
I will speak plain—I love Charles Lamb. My own book says Selected, so I wondered if that meant he had written other things to choose from? These are the pieces I want to read, and though the Germans are gone now, there aren't any bookshops left on Guernsey.
I want to ask a kindness of you. Could you send me the name and address of a bookshop in London? I would like to order more of Charles Lamb's writings by post. I would also like to ask if anyone has ever written his life story, and if they have, could a copy be found for me? For all his bright and turning mind, I think Mr. Lamb must have had a great sadness in his life.
Charles Lamb made me laugh during the German Occupation, especially when he wrote about the roast pig. The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society came into being because of a roast pig we had to keep secret from the German soldiers, so I feel a kinship to Mr. Lamb.
I am sorry to bother you, but I would be sorrier still not to know about him, as his writings have made me his friend.
Hoping not to trouble you,
P.S. My friend Mrs. Maugery bought a pamphlet that once belonged to you, too. It is called Was There a Burning Bush? A Defense of Moses and the Ten Commandments. She liked your margin note, "Word of God or crowd control???" Did you ever decide which?
From Juliet to Dawsey
15th January, 1946
Mr. Dawsey Adams
St. Martin's, Guernsey
Dear Mr. Adams,
I no longer live on Oakley Street, but I'm so glad that your letter found me and that my book found you. It was a sad wrench to part with the Selected Essays of Elia. I had two copies and a dire need of shelf-room, but I felt like a traitor selling it. You have soothed my conscience.
I wonder how the book got to Guernsey? Perhaps there is some secret sort of homing instinct in books that brings them to their perfect readers. How delightful if that were true.
Because there is nothing I would rather do than rummage through bookshops, I went at once to Hastings & Sons upon receiving your letter. I have gone to them for years, always finding the one book I wanted—and then three more I hadn't known I wanted. I told Mr. Hastings you would like a good, clean copy (and not a rare edition) of More Essays of Elia. He will send it to you by separate post (invoice enclosed) and was delighted to know you are also a lover of Charles Lamb. He said the best biography of Lamb was by E. V. Lucas, and he would hunt out a copy for you, though it may take a while.
In the meantime, will you accept this small gift from me? It is his Selected Letters. I think it will tell you more about him than any biography ever could. E. V. Lucas sounds too stately to include my favorite passage from Lamb: "Buz, buz, buz, bum, bum, bum, wheeze, wheeze, wheeze, fen, fen, fen, tinky, tinky, tinky, cr'annch! I shall certainly come to be condemned at last. I have been drinking too much for two days running. I find my moral sense in the last stage of a consumption and my religion getting faint." You'll find that in the Letters (it's on page 244). They were the first Lamb I ever read, and I'm ashamed to say I only bought the book because I'd read elsewhere that a man named Lamb had visited his friend Leigh Hunt, in prison for libeling the Prince of Wales.
While there, Lamb helped Hunt paint the ceiling of his cell sky blue with white clouds. Next they painted a rose trellis up one wall. Then, I further discovered, Lamb offered money to help Hunt's family outside the prison—though he himself was as poor as a man could be. Lamb also taught Hunt's youngest daughter to say the Lord's Prayer backward. You naturally want to learn everything you can about a man like that.
That's what I love about reading: one tiny thing will interest you in a book, and that tiny thing will lead you onto another book, and another bit there will lead you onto a third book. It's geometrically progressive—all with no end in sight, and for no other reason than sheer enjoyment.
The red stain on the cover that looks like blood—is blood. I got careless with my paper knife. The enclosed postcard is a reproduction of a painting of Lamb by his friend William Hazlitt.
If you have time to correspond with me, could you answer several questions? Three, in fact. Why did a roast pig dinner have to be kept a secret? How could a pig cause you to begin a literary society? And, most pressing of all, what is a potato peel pie—and why is it included in your society's name?
I have sub-let a flat at 23 Glebe Place, Chelsea, London S.W.3. My Oakley Street flat was bombed in 1945 and I still miss it. Oakley Street was wonderful—I could see the Thames out of three of my windows. I know that I am fortunate to have any place at all to live in London, but I much prefer whining to counting my blessings. I am glad you thought of me to do your Elia hunting.
P.S. I never could make up my mind about Moses—it still bothers me.
From Juliet to Sidney
18th January, 1946
This isn't a letter: it's an apology. Please forgive my moaning about the teas and luncheons you set up for Izzy. Did I call you a tyrant? I take it all back—I love Stephens & Stark for sending me out of London.
Bath is a glorious town: lovely crescents of white, upstanding houses instead of London's black, gloomy buildings or—worse still—piles of rubble that were once buildings. It is bliss to breathe in clean, fresh air with no coal smoke and no dust. The weather is cold, but it isn't London's dank chill. Even the people on the street look different—upstanding, like their houses, not grey and hunched like Londoners.
Susan said the guests at Abbot's book tea enjoyed themselves immensely—and I know I did. I was able to un-stick my tongue from the roof of my mouth after the first two minutes and began to have quite a good time.
Susan and I are off tomorrow for bookshops in Colchester, Norwich, King's Lynn, Bradford, and Leeds.
Love and thanks,
From Juliet to Sidney
21st January, 1946
Night-time train travel is wonderful again! No standing in the corridors for hours, no being shunted off for a troop train to pass, and above all, no black-out curtains. All the windows we passed were lighted, and I could snoop once more. I missed it so terribly during the war. I felt as if we had all turned into moles scuttling along in our separate tunnels. I don't consider myself a real peeper—they go in for bedrooms, but it's families in sitting rooms or kitchens that thrill me. I can imagine their entire lives from a glimpse of bookshelves, or desks, or lit candles, or bright sofa cushions.
What People are saying about this
Mary Ann Shaffer and Annie Barrows have written a wondrous, delightful, poignant book -- part Jane Austen, part history lesson…. An absolute treasure. --Sarah Addison Allen, author of Garden Spells
Meet the Author
Mary Ann Shaffer who passed away in February 2008, worked as an editor, librarian, and in bookshops. The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society was her first novel.
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- Martinsburg, West Virginia
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I am an avid reader and this is one of the best and most touching books I've ever read. The story's set at the end of WWII in England and Guernsey and it's written as a series of letters and telegrams between characters (well done). You must read this book. You will laugh, you will cry, you will grow to love these people and once finished, you will feel enriched for having come to know them while simultaneously mourning the end of your relationship with them. This is a book to keep, to treasure, to give to friends and loved ones and to read again and again. Is is too soon to ask for more?
This was such a charming group of charectors that by the end of the book, I felt like I knew each one of them so well and I wished they were real. The style of the book being in letters was, initially, a little awkward. It gave me a greater appreciation for the lost art of letter writing. A really good story.
Having read the overwhelming number of 5 star reviews, I had to buy this book! I'm so glad I did! The unique and original presentation through nothing more than letters was a perfect and unique method to get every character's point of view effectively. This is such a charming novel full of drama, sadness, humor, serious trauma,perserverence,tolerance, and all facets of love and relationships. Juliet, a writer, is immersed in each diverse character's inspiring story, some in dire circumstances with the horrific occupation of their island by the Germans. This was a pleasure and a joy to read! just beautifully done! Well worth your time! Some other FAVORITES OF MINE...BELOW
Though I had heard, of course, of the Channel Islands and Jersey and Guernsey, I never knew much about them, nor had I been curious to learn more. That has changed for me. And I had had no idea that Guernsey had been occupied by the Nazis during World War II, or that its inhabitants had been treated as harshly as those in any small town in France, Belgium and Holland that had fallen in the path of the Germany army.
The story is told in the form of a series of letters. I can recall this format being used successfully only twice in the past: In A WOMAN OF INDEPENDENT MEANS as well as in 84, CHARING CROSS ROAD. (In fact, there are a number of similarities between the latter and THE GUERNSEY... SOCIETY. Each book deals, in part, with World War II London and all this implies in terms of rationing and the Blitz, and also with the overlapping worlds of book-publishing and book selling.) The book also contains overtones of that much-loved BBC comedy, THE VICAR OF DIBLEY.
The plot begins innocently enough, describing town life on a small British island. Yet with as many layers as a large onion, the obvious surface keeps being peeled back to reveal ever more complicated and disturbing information.
To mention all of the many themes addressed, then, would read like a list. Suffice it to say that love and romance are included, but also the worst human depravity in history, the way in which the Nazis treated their victims. Even in this bestiality, however, the authors -- like poor Anne Frank -- were able to see some good and some beauty inherent in the human race.
A good read, highly recommended.
My friend lent me this book to read, literally screaming its praises to the moon. Admittedly, I only took it to please her; I was wary, from the looks of the cover, title, and setting, that I would find it too "cutesy". The fact that the book is written in letters threw me off a bit, as well. Alas, I was wrong; very, very wrong. Once I started The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society, I could not put it down. It's wholesome and traditional, but never childlike; never naive. This book carries a riveting edge with it. The main character, Juliet Ashton, has a biting, witty sense of humor that you can't help but fall in love with. And the characters -- oh!, the characters! My God, are they brilliant. Buy this book! It will become a well-worn companion.
This is one of the best books I've read this year. It's a rich story with interesting and well-developed characters, all told through letters mostly written to and from the main character of the book, Juliet. I did not realize it was a book of letters when I bought the book, so when I started reading the first few pages, I thought I would be disappointed. But the letters make the story come alive, as you discover things about the people in the book. Juliet is an author in post WWII England, who was assigned to write an article about the benefits of reading. She had a column during WWII in which she wrote under a pen name and ridiculed the war. As she was researching her article, she discovered that people on the island of Guernsey had created The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Society during the German occupation of the island during WWII. She corresponds by mail with the members of the society, and travels to the island from London. Through her letters with the society members, and letters back and forth with Sidney, her publisher, and other friends, you learn about the joys and tragedies of the people on Guernsey during the German occupation. And you also get to know Juliet's hopes and dreams. I highly recommend this beautifully written book!
This is a great story. I have recommended it to all my reading buddies and family. The story is so well done. Having enjoyed it so much I went searching for additional novels by the author and discovered this was her one and only and she didn't completely finish it by herself. It did explain why there was a small change in writing style towards the end of the book. The author was too ill to make the changes requested by the editor so her niece made the changes for her. I loved the main chacater and found myself wishing that I could have known her and been friends with her. This is such a wonderful story and is so well done, you will not regret spending one second on it.
As a 7th grade girl, I sometimes find it hard to locate books that AREN'T about vampires, vampires, zombies, etc. However, I was in luck when I found this book! It really was beautifully written, and I adored the format of letters. Books written entirely in correspondence tend to have a more friendly feel to them, which was exactly what I was looking for. If you enjoyed this book, also check out "Sarah's Key" by Tatiana deRosnay.
I originally picked up this book because the title caught my eye. I thought it was such an original and odd title that I just had to purchase it. Then I went to read it and realized it was written competely in letters between the characters and thought I wasn't sure I was going to like this. Well, I ended up being pleasantly surprised. It took maybe a few pages to get into reading in a letter format, but once you get to know who is writing the letters, you can't put this book down! I, like Juliet, found that I felt that I knew the inhabitants of Guernsey through their letters. And being a lover of books myself, appreciated how such a friendship between Juliet and Dawsey could form without having set eyes on each other or heard one another's voice. But, once Juliet sets foot on the island, the characters come to life and the story just gets more and more wonderful. The most fascinating character by far is one that doesn't even write a letter. Elizabeth lives through the letters of the members of the Guernsey Literary and Potatoe Peel Pie Society which she created on the spot to explain away the predicament they are found in when caught by the Nazis after curfew. This book truly helped me to understand what these characters may have felt while living under the Nazi occupation during WWII. And what I felt was hope, determination and a formidable spirit to go on. I can understand how Juliet fell in love with the characters on Guernsey, because I did as well. The only problem I had with this book, was that it had to end.
This is an excellent read. I loved the characters and their stories. A must read for a vacation or on a cold rainy day!!
I found it hard to get into this book at first. Reading letters seemed tedious and I almost put it down for good. But for some reason I kept picking it up and then I eventually got hooked.
If I had to use one word to describe this book, it would be delightful. I found myself wishing I could be a part of this group of friends.
Historical fiction that pulls you in and keeps you guessing the whole time. Loved it!
It's like nothing I have ever read before - comprised entirely of letters from among the various characters. It is a very different, but very moving story. I would highly recommend it. It would also be a wonderful choice for bookclubs. The paperback had a built in readers guide in the back with thought provoking questions included.
Until this book was chosen as one of our book club selections, I intentionally avoided it as one of the plethora of books in the food+ some sort of literary group in the title books. Once chosen, I had no choice. I had just finished reading Team of Rivals which was also wonderful...but what a tome! Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Society is written in a format I like very much; the entire book is composed of letters back and forth between and among the main characters. The author uses this technique to keep up the pace and the interest in her novel. The story is framed with a light-hearted, whimsical narrator but sandwiches an intriguing bit of WWII history in between. Each newly introduced character's personality, beliefs, values, and character is revealed by their own hand in the style and content of their letters. This was just a delightful, quick read that I wanted to immediately read again once I'd finished. Upon finishing I went at once to my email and recommended that all my friends (reader friends) drop everything and go get a copy and lock themselves away with it. I've also given it as a gift and plan to give it again.
I loved this book and was sad when it ended. I listened to the audio version; the readers did a wonderful job. I don't usually like books written in a letter setting but this works! It is a good history lesson without being too heavy, and the authors have a delightful sense of humor.
The characters of this car ride: Myself: a young woman in late 20's who reads mostly social political non-fiction or high-brow or quirky/satirical literature. My mum: a woman in her early 60's who reads time magazine, the news, and enjoys memoirs. My stepfather: an evil lobbyist with a good soul, who reads books about religion, law, and history. I seriously doubt that he's ever read a novel. And somehow, we were all brought together giggling at the same parts of the book, The scene: a long 8 hour road trip after the holidays. We got into the car, and my stepfather gave 6 choices for creating an audioscape. an audiobook on the early church; an audiobook on a boring aspect of the civil war; motown hits. I would have chosen motown, but i had my ipod ready for action- and probably would have put on hitchhiker's guide to the galaxy for a bit. However, my mum had just received the Potato Peel Pie audiobook... and despite uniting my stepfather's and my groans, i never once put my ipod on. If anything, i asked for the volume to be turned up and sank into the story and the characters. the audiotape was truly marvelous: it had the three of us giggling at parts, discussing the german occupation of Guernsey, and all three of us discussing the love life of our narrator and rooting for a certain fella. Truly a marvelous experience.
I have fallen in love with you. And though I don't bear the slightest resemblance to Mark Reynolds (the impetuous American in your delightful novel), I do want to thank you for compiling a wonderful set of letters. I am a 71-year old man, still battling with my friends over some of the ideas of this book. It is said that crying is good for the soul; my soul, if indeed I have one, hasn't been this refreshed in years. I do wish that Ms. Shaffer were still alive so that I could thank her for bringing Juliet and her entourage into being. Ms. Barrows, I do thank you for restoring my faith in the beauty of ideas. When a book makes one want to drop everything, fly to London and then to the island of Guernsey, just to see how the place seems today, and to perhaps find at least one of the wonderful characters that inhabit this book, well that is some book!!! My sincerest thanks to Ms. Shaffer, Ms. Barrows and to Dial Press.
This is a book I wasn't sure I would enjoy, until I read a few pages and then had a difficult time putting it down to live my own life. Those friends who I have shared the book with have also enjoyed reading it with the same exprience. It is a book that opens hearts and teaches life lessons.
How does an author take a hideous historical event and bring it to life in a charming, witty way that makes it an uplifting story? Mary Ann Shaffer and Annie Barrows accomplish this feat in The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society. Set in post World War Two England, Author Juliet Ashton, a wonderfully eccentric character in her own right, is looking for her next book idea and finds it unexpectedly in the people of Guernsey, a tiny British island that suffered through Nazi occupation. The book is told entirely through letters back and forth between Julia and the colorful people who suffered so miserably under Nazi control. It follows Julia as she travels to the island to meet the members of the Literary Society. The members reveal how they survived the war and its aftermath with humor, grace and an indomitable spirit encapsulated in the formation of their literary society. The book is a bit of history, a bit of romance, a bit of a travel guide and a large portion of beautifully written literary fiction. The characters, from the courageous Elizabeth to the nasty Adeladie Addison are so meticulously renedered they could each have their own novels. The tone is so charming and ebullient that it perfectly embodies the unquenchable spirit of the people who survived against all odds.
Loved the format of the book. It was well written.
I read this book for a book club and I wasn't very excited about it. I didn't like the title and didn't know anything about the plot. Once I got into the story I couldn't put it down. I even found myself counting the pages in disappointment because it would soon end. Great development of plot and characters. It was a delight to read!
Best read I've come across in about 5 years. Loved this book!
I thoroughly enjoyed reading this book. It was fun to see the characters develop as you read each letter and response. A very quick read and so entertaining I hated to put it down. Too bad e-mailing and texting have taken the place of letter-writing. There's definitely an art to letter-writing, as seen in this book, that's being lost with our high-tech toys. Everyone in our Book Club LOVED this book.
Everyone in the book club loved this book and we rarely agree on books! It was an easy, pleasant read, but informational and serious as well. Most of us were unaware of the WWII occupation of the Guernsey Islands and it presented yet another side to that war. Actually, most of us were unaware of the Guernsey Islands at all. The use of letters made the story feel very personal as well.