The Book of Lost Names | A Review

 

 

The Book of Lost Names

by Kristin Harmel

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Eva Traube Abrams, a semi-retired librarian in Florida, is shelving books one morning when her eyes lock on a photograph in a magazine lying open nearby. She freezes; it’s an image of a book she hasn’t seen in sixty-five years—a book she recognizes as The Book of Lost Names.

The accompanying article discusses the looting of libraries by the Nazis across Europe during World War II—an experience Eva remembers well—and the search to reunite people with the texts taken from them so long ago. The book in the photograph, an eighteenth-century religious text thought to have been taken from France in the waning days of the war, is one of the most fascinating cases. Now housed in Berlin’s Zentral- und Landesbibliothek library, it appears to contain some sort of code, but researchers don’t know where it came from—or what the code means. Only Eva holds the answer—but will she have the strength to revisit old memories and help reunite those lost during the war?

As a graduate student in 1942, Eva was forced to flee Paris after the arrest of her father, a Polish Jew. Finding refuge in a small mountain town in the Free Zone, she begins forging identity documents for Jewish children fleeing to neutral Switzerland. But erasing people comes with a price, and along with a mysterious, handsome forger named Rémy, Eva decides she must find a way to preserve the real names of the children who are too young to remember who they really are. The records they keep in The Book of Lost Names will become even more vital when the resistance cell they work for is betrayed and Rémy disappears.

An engaging and evocative novel reminiscent of The Lost Girls of Paris and The Alice Network, The Book of Lost Names is a testament to the resilience of the human spirit and the power of bravery and love in the face of evil.

With often stunning emotional depth and page-turning, emotionally-captivating plots and characters, World War II historical fiction novels are a favorite of mine. Within the framework of the war, there are a great many types of stories to tell—stories that ask you to fall headfirst into the lives of their characters, stories that reveal lesser known details of the war, stories that deliver a read so engrossing you don’t want the book to end. 

The Book of Lost Names, despite its intriguing premise, fell utterly short of being an engrossing, impressive novel. While it’s difficult to imagine a plot within a WWII historical fiction novel that I actively dislike, The Book of Lost Names came about as close as possible with its utter mediocrity. Though not inspired by the real life events of any one person, this novel is inspired by the forgers of WWII who fought against Nazis by helping forge documents that supported the resistance and got men, women, and children to safety. An incredible subject, a story focused on forgers of WWII could’ve been fantastic in somebody else’s hands. Instead, the story of fiction Eva Traube was predictable, trite, and very much a run-of-the-mill story of this genre. 

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The main issue within The Book of Lost Names was its complete lack of depth within the plot, characters, and the writing itself. Every element of the novel was straightforward and direct and, therefore, boring. The plot, despite being built upon elements that I found intriguing, was disappointingly predictable and lacked anything resembling true intrigue. While I enjoyed some elements, including learning bits of information about how real-life forgers used their skills and developed methods for creating forgeries that would pass Nazi inspection, there was very little that actually drew me into the plot. It felt as if I had read the story several times before and knew exactly where it was headed—and I was right. There was nothing about the premise or execution of the plot that was surprising or compelling, it was completely bland. The story moved rather quickly. While the plot was believable in terms of the events that unfolded, I couldn’t get past the overwhelming feeling of convenience that permeated the story. Unfortunately, my guesses for the plot turned out to be right at every turn and some of what happened crossed lines into terribly cliché and, frankly, cheesy territory. I also had to wonder what the point of the dual timelines was. The vast majority of the novel takes place in the 1940’s France, with only a handful of very short chapters taking place in 2005. The inclusion of the 2005 chapters could’ve been used to create more intrigue within the other timeline and to make readers wonder exactly what happens, but instead the bare minimum was done. We learn nothing from these chapters and there is nothing that contributes to the plot. They add remarkably little to the reading experience beyond culminating in the most predictable, banal ending possible.

While the plot left much to be desired, there’s no doubt in my mind that the same plot could’ve been made a worthwhile read in the hands of a more skilled writer. The Book of Lost Names’ direct and plain approach to storytelling lacked the subtlety and emotional depth that brings stories of this nature to life and allows readers to connect with characters. Everything was one-note, nothing complex beyond the initial implications of the emotions at play. There were some interesting themes played with—unique feelings of guilt and responsibility for example—but they were expressed in clichéd, surface-level ways that almost made the writing seem a bit juvenile, as if it were written for a younger audience where spelling out emotions a little more plainly is required. Perfectly acceptable when appropriate, this sort of writing didn’t do the story it was trying to tell justice.

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As a result of the lackluster writing and emotional depth of the story, the characters within The Book of Lost Names failed to shine. More than that, they failed to do anything but fill the role they were meant to fill. There was no real dimension to them. They weren’t exactly flat, they were just exactly as you’d expect a character in their role to be and nothing more. This was, of course, disappointing, but the real shame of the novel in terms of characters came in the form of ill-written children and Eva’s mother. Inappropriately thoughtful and eloquent young children are a sign of bad writing and a general lack of understanding of the type of character the author is trying to convey. Unrealistically portrayed children do not provide heartbreaking, emotionally heavy moments with their overdramatic, much too mature statements. Instead, they come off as contrived and ridiculous. Eva’s mother was perhaps the most obvious character victim of the painfully direct approach this novel took to everything. Grossly overdone, Mamusia’s feelings toward Eva were pushed past the point of believability. I would easily believe that her feelings could simmer beneath the surface of her relationship with Eva, resulting in passive aggressive moments, but I cannot—really cannot—buy that she would treat her own daughter so poorly and blame her so openly in the midst of their situation. It felt like forced familial drama that added little to the story beyond a glaring example of a poorly written relationship.

The Book of Lost Names fell completely short of the novel I’d hoped it would be. It stuck to the blueprint of a typical WWII historical fiction novel and went no further than was absolutely necessary. Its bland storytelling, characters, and predictable plot made it a less than captivating reading experience. While I could’ve dealt with either sub-par writing or a lackluster plot and still found some entertainment within the novel, the two combined made for a novel I couldn’t wait to finish.