I wasn't too excited to read yet another WWII book so soon after finishing The Nightingale, but this one was chosen for book club so I made the commitment. Right away it seemed like a completely different animal. The way the story is told through little impressionistic glimpses at scenes is fascinating, as is the way it jumps around in time and from character to character. It seemed both random and very painstakingly ordered, and I found it surprisingly easy to follow. 
 The middle of the book was the closest thing to a gripping narrative. Doerr did an amazing job of creating a high amount of tension with a pretty low-action situation. I read that part relatively quickly, although it took me over a month to get through the book as a whole. 
 I both liked and disliked that this book didn't try to make a particular point. Marie-Laure is not a heroine. She is either protected by the Sea of Flames or by men and luck, depending on your interpretation. I find her fascination with snails both unlikely and uninspiring. Werner is a tool until the very end when he is brave in rather passive ways; I wouldn't call him a hero either. And their relationship is not a deep one. There's a lot of build-up to a not very thrilling conclusion. And while that's of course more realistic than a lot of the heroic stories people love to tell and hear, I had a hard time finding anything to take away from this book. It was an enjoyable read, and the Sea of Flames was an interesting plot device that I'm still thinking about, but in the end to me it seemed meaningless. 
 Maybe the only point is that this war happened to and was conducted by ordinary people, and although it made their lives extraordinary, both sides were really just human; vulnerable and frightened and willing to do what it took to stay alive. Maybe the point is that love is the small but profound pilot light that makes people a little bit brave and keeps them going through the darkest of times. That seems to be the point of most WWII books.