Title: The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society
Author: Mary Ann Shaffer and Annie Barrows
Publisher: Dial Press
Genre: Historical Fiction, World War II
First Publication: 2008
Major Characters: Sophie Kintock, Juliet Ashton, Dawsey Adams, Susan Scott, Sidney Stark, Elizabeth McKenna, Isola Pribby, Markham V. Reynolds, Jr., Kit McKenna, Adelaide Addison, Eben Ramsey, Amelia Maugery, John Booker, Christian Hellman, Will Thisbee, Clovis Fossey, Thomson Stubbins, Clara Saussey, Sally Ann Frobisher
Theme: Literature and Connection; Family, Parenting, and Legitimacy; War, Hunger, and Humanity; Women, Marriage, and Work
Setting: London and Guernsey, 1946
Narrator: First person limited, told in a series of letters between various characters
Book Summary: The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society
“I wonder how the book got to Guernsey? Perhaps there is some sort of secret homing instinct in books that brings them to their perfect readers.”
January 1946: London is emerging from the shadow of the Second World War, and writer Juliet Ashton is looking for her next book subject. Who could imagine that she would find it in a letter from a man she’s never met, a native of the island of Guernsey, who has come across her name written inside a book by Charles Lamb. . . .
As Juliet and her new correspondent exchange letters, Juliet is drawn into the world of this man and his friends—and what a wonderfully eccentric world it is. The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society—born as a spur-of-the-moment alibi when its members were discovered breaking curfew by the Germans occupying their island—boasts a charming, funny, deeply human cast of characters, from pig farmers to phrenologists, literature lovers all.
Juliet begins a remarkable correspondence with the society’s members, learning about their island, their taste in books, and the impact the recent German occupation has had on their lives. Captivated by their stories, she sets sail for Guernsey, and what she finds will change her forever.
Written with warmth and humor as a series of letters, this novel is a celebration of the written word in all its guises and of finding connection in the most surprising ways.
Book Review: The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society
This novel is written from the heart, and at its heart, is a story about the love and power of books. As we learn within the first few pages: That’s what I love about reading: one tiny thing will interest you in a book, and that tiny thing will lead you onto another book, and another bit there will lead you onto the third book. It’s geometrically progressive – all with no end in sight, and for no other reason than sheer enjoyment. The story follows author Juliet Ashton, but revolves around Elizabeth McKenna, a character who never actually appears in the novel. A host of other characters populate the story, and their lives are altered by these women, by books, and by war.
During WWII, Juliet, a sentimental English woman, was a journalist of a sort, with a humourous column in the Spectator called Izzy Bickerstaff Goes to War. The collection of articles becomes a best-selling book, but now it is 1946, and Juliet wants to find a “real” story to write. Her London flat was bombed during the war, all of her books destroyed, but a farmer – Mr. Dawsey Adams of Guernsey Island has one of the books she’d sold. Bought it second-hand, found her name and address on the inside cover, and could she please send him the name and address of a bookshop in London so that he might order more of 18th-century essayist Charles Lamb’s writings by post?
And this is how Juliet finds her story – and far more than that – in an unlikely place: Guernsey Island, a British colony in the English Channel just off the coast of France.
“I don’t want to be married just to be married. I can’t think of anything lonelier than spending the rest of my life with someone I can’t talk to, or worse, someone I can’t be silent with.”
Juliet fulfills Dawsey’s request, continues to correspond, and eventually exchanges letters amongst a number of people who live on the island, which had been under German occupation during the war. Most, but not all, belong to The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Society, a book club formed as a ruse by Elizabeth when she, Dawsey, and an inebriated John Booker, are returning home after an illegal roast pig dinner. It’s after curfew and Booker’s singing alerts the Nazi patrol. Spunky, quick-thinking Elizabeth faces Lugers aimed at her eyes, and without blinking, apologizes, and goes on to say that their Literary Society had been so engrossed in a delightful discussion of Elizabeth and Her German Garden that they’d lost all track of time. Since the Germans liked and encouraged book clubs, her scam worked for the night, but then they had to develop the society into an actual, active group.
This book is written in the epistolary style, which is appropriate for the period, and to the themes of reading and writing, although credulity was somewhat tested at times: the tricky part of writing a story in the form of letters is how to convey information without sounding contrived. The characters themselves are well-developed, but somehow it’s the sound of Juliet’s voice that seems to come across in the letters these people write.
“Reading good books ruins you for enjoying bad books.”
Meanwhile, Juliet corresponds regularly with people who are near and dear to her, as well, including her publisher, Simon and his sister Sophie. There is also a not-altogether-convincing love interest happening between Juliet and a rich American publisher, Markham V. Reynolds, Jr. But Juliet is more interested in the people of Guernsey who have begun to write not only of books, but of their personal memories during five years of German rule. Very soon the tone of the letters changes to reflect deepening friendships, and when Juliet decides she wants to write about these friends’ stories, she leaves Mark despite his protestations, to whisk herself away to Guernsey.
It is in the second half of the book, when Juliet meets the people with whom she has corresponded, when the epistolary form no longer works as well – there’s too much plot that needs to be worked into the letters. Juliet writes to Sidney: Stories of Elizabeth are everywhere – not just among the Society members. Yes, we learn many stories about this heroic woman, who was sent to a prison camp in Europe for hiding a Nazi worker, who has yet to return, and who left behind 4-year-old Kit, the result of a love affair with a German soldier who was killed after leaving the island. Kit has been raised by Elizabeth’s friends until Juliet comes along.
I wanted to appreciate this elusive-but-very-present Elizabeth and her self-sacrificing acts during the war, but her “larger-than-life” character – as writers are advised to create – simply went too far: to me, her character became so saintly, it ceased to sound credible. And when Juliet bonds with Kit, we all know where the story is going.
“Perhaps there is some secret sort of homing instinct in books that brings them to their perfect readers. How delightful if that were true.”
It was shortly after this that I began to flip back pages and re-evaluate my original opinion of the book. The final flaw that repeatedly sent my eyelids rolling was how the witty, intelligent, and empathetic Juliet could be so blind about what was going on within herself and with Dawsey. Why, I wondered, is this story labeled historical fiction and not romance?
Now, having said all that, I have to say that I notched my rating up by a half star because I appreciated learning about Guernsey and its role in the war; how the islanders coped with the occupation by reading and discussing books they may otherwise never consider reading (as we do in Goodreads!); and some parts made me laugh out loud. And I do believe that this book was intended to come across as a “feel-good” story. If so, even though the writing isn’t flawless, and the story might not change your life, I think the authors succeeded. Further, if Mary Ann Shaffer had lived to write another book, I wouldn’t hesitate to pick it up.
Actually, in the Afterword written by Shaffer’s niece, Annie Barrows, we learn that all her aunt had wanted was “to write a book that someone would like enough to publish.” This happened. “But then, just as if we were in some horrible retributive folk tale, the triumph turned, because Mary Ann’s health began to fail. When, shortly thereafter, the book’s editor requested some changes that required substantial rewriting, Mary Ann knew that she did not have the stamina to undertake the work, and she asked me if I would do it, on the grounds that I was the other writer in the family.” Annie did so, and I’m glad she did.