This is the second book that I've very nearly given five stars this year. All Quiet on the Western Front is the story of one young man fresh out of school who is sent to the front line with his classmates and must survive the horrors of war. I have a deep interest in the First World War in particular and I've never read anything (not even a poem) that deals with war in such a way as this. 
 It is unforgiving and unapologetic in it's truth. The horrors of war are laid bare and every single thought that passed through every single soldier, regardless of nationality, during that war are right here in these pages. It doesn't matter whether the protagonist Paul is German, or French, or British, each and every single one of them felt these exact words during that conflict and it is such a hit to the heart that it brings emotions that even poetry cannot. 
 Why didn't I give it five stars? Again, like Scaramouche, there were just little niggling things that put me in doubt. It is a wonderful novel, emotional and harsh and completely bleak, but, and this is possibly because of the translation, it seemed to have a slight gloss over the top of it that stopped me from truly loving it. 
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