always in love with books

I didn't think I would like this novel from the premise, but the mention of several 18th-century authors early on drew me in--I'm a sucker for both 18th-century and WWII-era British fiction. Overall, I'm glad I stuck with the novel. I loved the main character Juliet and the careful balance of light and darkness in the recounting of the occupation of Guernsey. The epistolary style was effective and interesting, but some of the characters' voices were more believable than others. Some of the characters felt real to me while others felt like they were just caricatures. Still, there was enough tenderness and laughter in this recounting of a difficult moment in history that I would recommend it to a friend.

When I love a book, it’s usually because I’m in love with the characters. While there are several to love in The Night Circus, what really drew me to this book were the spaces. (And, perhaps, the kittens.)

Morgenstern creates spaces that have the same textures as dreams. Part amusement park, part theater, part personal discovery, the eponymous circus is full of interactive landscapes that encourage people to add a part of themselves as they explore. Morganstern draws frequent parallels between spaces and stories throughout, and each place is an allegory of how we interact with others and with our own pasts and futures. Her circus is a space where you can let things go and wish wishes and learn to fly. As a reader, I was exhilarated. I highly recommend this novel.

This book felt like a cruel lesson in what it means to hope. We endure the lesson along with Katniss who, dressed up as “the thing with feathers,” is meant to be hope for others, but in turn must relearn what it means to hope herself. One by one, her ideas of what it means to be victorious, what it means to be honorable, and what it means to love, are recalibrated and adjusted to the realities of the world around her. And along with her, we feel more than understand intellectually what the personal costs are of hoping for particular outcomes without questioning them. In some ways, our hope is crushed, which is devastating. In other ways, the way that hope remains in tiny cracks of beauty and acts of real goodness—even in this extremely harsh environment—is what matters. If you are like me, you will find yourself counting these small pieces of hope along with Katniss as a way to fend off the darkness.

“And sweetest in the gale is heard;
And sore must be the storm
That could abash the little bird
That kept so many warm.” – E. Dickinson