Suite Française

I didn't know what to expect with this novel–or pair of novellas–other than that it was an unfinished story about the German invasion of France in World War II, published by the author's daughter long after her death in Auschwitz.

What I found was two linked stories. The first, Storm in June, takes place as German troops are advancing on Paris, and follows several groups and individuals as they flee into the countryside. We get to know these people intimately as we see the details of their flight: the things they bring with them, their attitudes towards other people fleeing, their responses to being stuck in traffic, bombed en route, stranded in towns with no food, gas, or shelter. Not surprisingly, many of them become laser focused on themselves and their own well being, with little concern for other people. One mother forgets her elderly father in law as she flees a little town that is bombed overnight. While Nemirovsky's eye is unsparing, there's the sense that she is just reporting what happens. While there are sudden and startling deaths, they don't necessarily happen because the person was bad or had done something to deserve it. The universe Nemirovsky shows is merciless, and the terrible things that happen are not happening for any moral reason.

The second story, Dolce, takes place in a country village that comes under German occupation. The story begins as the soldiers march into town and ends as they march out. Officers are lodged with citizens, the soldiers mix with the townsfolk, and they come to know each other somewhat as human beings. Lieutenant Bruno von Falk is lodged with Lucile Angellier and her disapproving mother in law. The son and husband of the house is a prisoner of war, and both women wonder if von Falk or any of the other occupying soldiers could have had a hand in taking him prisoner. Von Falk is polite and he and Lucile strike up a friendship/nascent romance. Another Lieutenant, Bonnet, is lodged at a neighboring farm, where he makes passes at the farmer's young wife. When he is killed by her angry husband, a crisis in relations between the townspeople and the occupiers occurs. This story is not told as a romance, but as a tale about people dealing with the conflict between their shared humanity and their opposing interests and obligations.

Following the two novellas are two appendices. The first one contains Nemirovsky's notes for her work on Suite Francaise, where you can read about her plans for 2-3 more pieces of the work, and understand that what happened in her novel depended on what happened in the war. She was writing her war novel as the war happened around her and to her, using what happened to tell the story. The second appendix contains wartime correspondence from her up to June 1942, and then correspondence from her husband documenting his attempts to find out what had happened to her after she was arrested and taken away. Here you can learn about the difficulties and dangers she was facing as she wrote her novel and have your heart broken as you contemplate what happened to her and her family.

I'm floating from my reading this week. The Accidental was so magnificent that I'd read it in little bites, holding off finishing it as long as I could. Then Suite Francaise arrived on my doorstep and it, too, was so excellent I could barely believe it.

This week it has felt like Harrison Ford and Sean Connery both insisted on accompanying me to the prom.

What an amazing story to go along with Suite Francaise! (I keep waiting for some horrible Million Little Pieces revelation to come out about it...please, please, don't let this happen.) The book was written in the early 1940's by a woman who died at Auschwitz. The manuscript was saved in a suitcase all these years by the author's daughters who assumed it was a memoir and could not bear to read it.

Beautiful writing. Beautiful. The story flows, weaving around the cast of characters, in a place that felt so real I kept wanting to stop and breathe it in.

The story centers on the mass exodus from Paris as the Germans are taking over France. Last fall, my family and I fled south Texas as Hurricane Rita crept closer and closer to our homes; I connected completely with this story.

Suite Francaise is almost too good to be true, almost like I slipped inside a time machine, with a tour guide to boot. Reading it makes me want to send out a worldwide call to everyone to search their houses, to scramble through those old suitcases, to ramble through the attics; if even one more paragraph like those in Suite Francaise would result from the search, it would be worth it.