Sarah's Key by Tatiana de Rosnay

Though this is not a brand new book out, it is still worth the read.  Sarah’s Key is touching frame story about two women’s lives. 

Our namesake’s story takes place in France during World War II.  Written from the perspective of a ten-year-old, readers see the world through innocent eyes again.  Sarah is taken, along with her parents, by the French police in the middle of the night, simply for being Jewish.  Being a protective big sister, Sarah naively locks her younger brother in a cupboard, promising that she will be back soon to let him out.  This night was frightening though not nearly as terrifying as the nights that lay ahead of her.

Flash forward to 2002, again in Paris we meet Julia, an American journalist whose personal life is a bit tumultuous, but only about to get worse as she obsessively researchs Vel’ d’Hiv’ on its sixtieth anniversary.  At odds with just about everyone around her, little Sarah’s life becomes the one constant for Julia.

De Rosnay masterfully weaves two females’ lives in two time periods.  Her descriptions of Paris, both past and present, allow the reader to be in the story walking the same cobblestone paths in two different eras, as Sarah in her trek from her home and Julia in search of the truth. 

Initially skeptical of a logical connection between Sarah and Julia, I found myself believing in this story as though De Rosnay discovered it herself in research for the book. 

The only drawback to the novel is a secondary storyline about Julia’s love life.  Her troubles in her marriage only enhanced the story, but her romantic prospect towards the end of the novel detracts from an otherwise poignant story.

Sarah’s Key takes a unique approach to narratives about the Holocaust.  This story is truly one to share.

An Introduction

For years family and friends have come to me for reading suggestions.  Depending on the person, and the assumed expectations, I either derive pleasure or feel a sense dread before responding. 

When a fellow English teacher asks for ideas, I fret whether or not my suggestion is “high brow” enough.  There is always a pathetic voice in the back of my head questioning “do they think I am dumb for thinking this is a worthwhile book?”  Then I remember that as a teacher of prose, something can be learned from every book we encounter, good or bad. 

When my friends and family members who are not fortunate enough to work in education ask for a recommendation, the pressure lessens—only a little.  I still feel as though the books I tout are a direct representation of me.  Luckily, they tend to enjoy my suggestions, and if not, I can deal with a little good-natured ribbing.

Enough rambling.  The point of my new blog is to discover propitious prose and spread the word.  I hope you enjoy!