I pretty much ignored this book during its many weeks on the bestseller lists, partly because of my mysterious natural tendency to avoid bestsellers (at least until years after everyone has stopped talking about them and I can suppress my curiosity no more) and partly because of my corollary perverse aversion to the sort of earnest women’s literary fiction Oprah might select for her book club (yes, I know a lot of those are actually good books; it’s just a knee-jerk reaction). With its quirky, convoluted title mentioning food, Mary Ann Shaffer and Annie Barrows’s book sounded like Oprah bait, and for some reason (despite the mention of Guernsey) I assumed it was about the South (maybe I was confusing it with the Sweet Potato Queens or something?), and therefore not my cup of tea. (Not that I reject all books about the South; I just mean I don’t deliberately seek them out based on that fact.) So I was surprised when, at a family reunion in August, my librarian aunt raved about the book and told me it was about the German occupation of the British Channel Islands during World War II. I hadn’t known that the Germans had occupied any part of Britain, or even that Guernsey was a Channel Island (all I knew is that it has cows), so my interest was piqued enough to seek out some online reviews. What I read made it sound right up my alley: Charming, nostalgic novel? Set in post-WWII Britain? An homage to book lovers? Sold!
Eventually, I checked out a copy of the book from the library and read the first few dozen pages, but still felt a little resistant; I love novels written in that era, but am more suspicious of those written about it, and I kept worrying that the period setting seemed too inauthentic and forced. Also, epistolary novels are not my favorites, as it takes a deft hand to write in multiple characters’ styles without sounding like a caricature, let alone to manage exposition without resorting to the obvious and artificial “As you know…” trick. Then I realized that this would be a perfect candidate to listen to as an audiobook; it’s light and story-driven, and I wouldn’t pay as much attention to any stylistic failings. And I was right: I heartily enjoyed it as a distraction from commuting. The multiplicity of stories and voices were a natural fit for the audiobook form (I loved it that different actors voiced the different characters), and while some parts were better than others, the variety kept me entertained, with a perfect blend of humor, romance, and drama. The details about Guernsey during the occupation are by far the best part, followed by the testimonials to the joy of reading (although they weren’t as central to the story as I’d expected), and while the characters never became quite real enough for me to fall in love with, I was amused by them and even, I admit, touched enough to cry a little when it turned tragic. The book felt as though it was trying really hard to be like the gentle, old-fashioned, everyday-adventures-in-an-eccentric-small-town early-twentieth-century comedies of manners I adore (E.F. Benson or Elizabeth von Arnim, for example), and while it didn’t quite measure up in comparison, it was a satisfactory simulation. I won’t be adding a copy to my library, but I’m really glad I read it and would recommend it (particularly the audio version) as a fun and diverting read.
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