The Nightingale by Kristin Hannah (2015): A Review

Title: The Nightingale

Author: Kristin Hannah

Publication Year: 2015

Pages: 564

Rating: ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

Genre: Historical Fiction, War

Source: Book & audiobook @storytel.tr

I was introduced to Kristin Hannah's work through "The Women," where she effectively portrayed her female characters during and after the war. This narrative is often categorized as trauma fiction, thematically addressing PTSD in veterans. Therefore, I held similar expectations for "The Nightingale," but it turned out to be quite different. While it does focus on female heroes during the war, the significant distinction is that it explores their lives during the war rather than their experiences afterward. Thus, it falls into the category of war fiction rather than trauma fiction, although a few brief scenes touch on trauma. Nevertheless, it was a remarkable novel.

"The Nightingale" tells the story of a broken French family: a father returning from WWI changed, a mother lost to disease, and two estranged sisters cast adrift by their father's turmoil. The narrative unfolds across two different timelines and is set against the backdrop of WWII, which transforms everything and everyone, ultimately bringing the sisters back together—though it is too late. This story evokes similar vibes found in "The Alice Network" (2017) by Kate Quinn.

Back to our heroines. At the story's beginning, Isabelle and Vianne are suddenly thrust into an unimaginable reality during WWII in occupied France and choose two different paths. Isabelle, the brave and stubborn sister, opts for active resistance, while Vianne, the timid one, focuses on survival—trying to keep herself and her daughter safe until her husband (a POW) comes home. If only it were that simple! But war is anything but straightforward.

While it doesn't fit the structural definition of trauma fiction, the story leaves readers feeling traumatized as second-hand witnesses. It provokes anxiety and distress, leaving you breathless with tears streaming down your cheeks (or maybe that's just me!). You yearn for the war to end so that perhaps these sisters could find some peace. However, the narrative does not offer a fantasy; it presents a realistic portrayal of war where no one gets a break—even when the war concludes. Instead, it highlights a long-lasting trauma that envelops the characters and readers and suffocates them.

Typically, in Freytag's Pyramid, we progress from introduction to rising action, climax, falling action, and finally resolution. However, this story begins with a brief introduction, followed by significant rising action, and then maintains a state of constant climax. If there is any falling action, it feels like another climax, leaving you so numb by the end that you hardly realize you've reached the resolution. The ending, set 50 years after the war, presents yet another heart-wrenching tale. Throughout the book, you're left guessing the first-person narrator's identity in the story's main frame until the final chapter—Is it Isabelle or Vianne? I got it wrong.

Things become even more intense when, amid the tension of following Isabelle and Vianne with their struggles and heroism, you suddenly hear the news that your own country has been thrust into a war. You may find yourself far away, unable to contact your family, desperate for updates as you scroll through social media and news to see if your hometown has been affected and turned into rubble. When you are distanced from the story and its characters, the impact can feel less overwhelming. However, when you find yourself in a situation that mirrors the war, the pain of the story resonates deeply within you. You may feel compelled to finish the book quickly, fearing that you will break down if it lingers, and you read 40% of the book in just half a day, eager to discover the outcome before the weight of uncertainty in your life becomes too much to bear.