I picked All the Light We Cannot See (from my birthday project list) up at the library on Friday, and while I haven’t had as much time as I’d like to read it, I am already entranced by both the story and the prose. Beautiful!
Saint-Malo: Water surrounds the city on four sides. Its link to the rest of France is tenuous: a causeway, a bridge, a spit of sand. We are Malouins first, say the people of Saint-Malo. Bretons next. French if there’s anything left over.
In stormy light, its granite glows blue. At the highest tides, the sea creeps into basements at the very center of town. At the lowest tides, the barnacled ribs of a thousand shipwrecks stick out above the sea.
For three thousand years, this promontory has knowns sieges.
But never like this. (11)
Inside each airplane, a bombardier peers through an aiming window and counts to twenty. Four five six seven. To the bombardiers, the walled city on its granite headland, drawing ever closer, looks like an unholy tooth, something black and dangerous, a final abscess to be lanced away. (4)
Intrigued yet? I can’t say for certain, but I have a feeling this one will probably make me my Best Books of 2015 list.