Literature -- 5 stars
Shira is five years old. Hiding in the straw of a barn with her mother, Roza, in Nazi occupied Poland is hard, especially having to stay so still and so silent. Shira's only other companion is an imaginary yellow bird she holds cupped in her hand, a bird that sings the songs she writes in her head, songs that remind her of the days when her mother played the cello and her Papa played his violin, and Shira would sit on her grandfather's lap, tapping out the melodies on his leg with her chubby fingers. Told that the barn is no longer safe, Roza must choose: hope they can survive in the forest together or allow Shira to be led away and hidden in a convent orphanage. ----- This is one of those books that pulls you to the end, and then leaves you bereft that there are no more chapters to open. Shira and Roza's characters are so beautifully imagined, and so tightly woven together that their yearning becomes a physical thing that tugs at you to turn the pages faster, faster, still faster. The little yellow bird seems to breath, becoming a third major character, a thread that, no matter how thinly stretched, attests to an unbreakable connection. Inspired by true stories of the brave people who protected Polish Jewish children during WWII, Ms. Rosner has created a novel that will stay with me for a long time.
No comments:
Post a Comment