A review by kurtwombat
The Nightingale by Kristin Hannah

adventurous dark emotional sad tense fast-paced
  • Plot- or character-driven? A mix
  • Strong character development? Yes
  • Loveable characters? Yes
  • Diverse cast of characters? No
  • Flaws of characters a main focus? It's complicated

2.0

 
I am aggrieved. The genre HISTORICAL FICTION should be eradicated from all forms of written communication—at best a misnomer, at worst outright deception. Of primary importance should be the word HISTORICAL—implying a well intentioned effort to present history accurately. History should come alive with a pulse and  passion that practically makes it a main character.  Books I love that fall into this version of HISTORICAL FICTION include: JOY LUCK CLUB, LONESOME DOVE, HOUSE OF THE SPIRITS, THE ALIENIST, THE AUBREY & MATURIN NOVELS, BURR, SHIP OF FOOLS, KINDRED, LITTLE BIG MAN. Some or all of these may cause you to raise your own quibbles, but that’s the point.   
 
Then we have THE NIGHTINGALE. A modestly compelling read that sweeps you along with a lot of dialogue and wispy paragraphs—most are merely two or three sentences. This creates a momentum not sustained by the actual narrative—we call that cheating.  The historical inaccuracies stack up like firewood before the first frost. (For a fantastic list of historical grievances read The Nightingale –  A seriously flawed historical thriller - Steve E. Clark) For the first 200 to 300 pages I tried to roll with it. The inherent drama of occupied France and the impending Holocaust are rich grounds for storytelling. (In fact, the third WW II themed book I’ve read this year) But they become uneven grounds for this author—who often stumbles. There is a child character that acts and is treated like a toddler at the start of the war but by the end is acting and talking like a cynical young adult. The main characters are passionate about their love lives but quite often, and I do mean often, they could care less about the fates of those around them. The deaths and disappearances of friends and co-conspirators are either met with a shrug or quickly forgotten. I guess this indifference toward others helped the main characters remain oddly naïve at the end of the book—despite seeing much of the worst of what the war had to offer. Spoiler warning (this book might have spoiled WW II for me) when one of the main characters dies at the end—it is a whiny self-absorbed affair disguised as romantic. The novel implies that she has seen too much to possibly go on—when in fact, her character is set up the whole novel to become driven by what she had seen to go on. 
 
If you want to label this HISTORICAL ROMANCE—I will give you an approving nod. This has become quite an industry in recent years. Each to their own—as long as people are reading I’m happy—but I find myself walking a minefield looking for history only to end up dodging ROMANCE novels in disguise. For me it’s like starting a Raymond Chandler novel only to find out he’s teaching me how to cook Duck A L'Orange—sorry Philip Marlowe.  Now while I grumble, I will admit to it keeping my interest and pulling at me to finish it’s 440 pages so I have to give it that. At least. 
 
And perhaps worst of all—I hated reading the name Vianne for 440 pages. Presumably short for Vivianne—why not call her Viv? It’s like reading about Robert and having people call him Ert for 400+ pages. I just couldn’t go on after that. I just couldn’t.