The first half of this book was so gripping and disturbing that I could hardly read it, and yet I could hardly put it down. The author is telling two stories 60 years apart. (She's not as clandestine as some authors, forcing the reader to discern which is which; she alternates chapters and fonts.) The 1942 story is about a Jewish family living in Paris and arrested as part of the Velodrome d'Hiver roundup, in which French police sent French citizens to concentration camps. The horror of this actual event is personalized by the fictitious characters, who seem even more real against the historical backdrop. Sarah, the 10-year-old daughter, not realizing the gravity of the situation and the unlikelihood that she will ever return home, has locked her younger brother Michel in the cupboard and taken the key with her. The 2002 story is about Julia, an American in Paris married to a Frenchman. She is researching the Vel' d'Hiv' for a magazine article and finds that her father-in-law's family moved into an apartment shortly after it was vacated by Sarah's family. My interest started to dwindle in the second half of the book, as it focuses more on Julia's vacillation regarding her pregnancy and her marriage, even as she puts the latter more at risk with her obsession over Sarah's story. The author seems to have a bit of difficulty justifying this obsession as misplaced guilt, and I found this to be somewhat of a flaw in the plot. Still, as historical fiction, it's a piece of history that begs to be told, and the author doesn't try to whitewash or justify the fear and apathy that produced such dire consequences.
Amazon: 4 stars (588 reviews)
Barnes & Noble: 4.5 stars (732 reviews)
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