I held off on reading this book, mainly because when it started showing up all over Goodreads, Amazon, and in stores, I had recently had my fill of WWII-centered stories. I'm glad I waited, if for no other reason than just to ensure I could appreciate this book for what it is. In a market simply inundated with fictional accounts of WWII, somehow All the Light We Cannot See shines through as an intricate web of sweet and tender bildungsroman-esque stories connecting two characters on opposite sides of the War.

The slow, steady development of both plot and character was a testament to Doerr's magic-infused writing. I welcomed both main characters' points-of-view and truly loved the chance to follow both narrators through the world.

Doerr's interpretation of our young French maiden, blind since the age of six, was written with such an immersion for the other senses, everything about her experiences not only felt real but relatable. Meanwhile, the young German boy was taken care of with such thoughtfulness and humanity from Doerr that despite his solider status as enemy in history, the boy himself was complex and masterfully handled to be equally relatable.

As their two stories converge towards a collision, with overlapping elements to maintain the connections, and the flashbacks catch up to the present, we meet the two from the other's point-of-view and a whole new facet opens up. It is only then do these characters feel complete, as if they only existed to get both to this same point in time.