The more I think about this book the more I like it. 
 There are four main stories/lives in the novel, and whilst you suspect that they're all connected, you don't see the thread that intertwines them together until the end. Apparently, they all have little in common: Leo Gursky, who escaped from Poland during WWII and now lives in the USA, practically waiting to die; Alma, a 14 year old who was named after "all the girls" from a book called The History of Love, that her mother is now translating; later on, Zvi Litvinoff, the author of that book and his exile in South America; and also excerpts from the book itself. 
 I won't say anything else, this is a book you don't want spoiled. Only that: that is heart-wrenching and heart-warming novel. It is immensely sad but strangely hopeful. Not only that, but Krauss has this ability some authors have (not all authors, but good ones) of adapting their style to their narrator in the more profound and nuanced way. We learn about both Leo and Alma by their own voice/hand (Litvinoff's bits have a 3rd person narrator, and The History of Love itself too), and it's amazing. 
 But. (or And yet.) The only problem I had with it is precisely that it was sometimes too difficult to follow the narrator's path. Until the end, when it all made sense, I had some moments I found myself re-reading... and also talking out-loud: but wasn't he dead? Who is that? Wasn't she supposed to be that other person? Who wrote that?!?! 
 Remember what I was saying before about ratings? That book's the perfect example. I think that if I had read it in between average books (for example, right now), I would've given it 5 stars. But I started the year reading SO MUCH QUALITY that I only gave The History of Love 4 stars on Goodreads. Now that I'm remembering the book, I love it more. So. Who cares about ratings?