Book Review- The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society by Mary Ann Shaffer

The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society by Mary Ann Shaffer

My review

rating: 4 of 5 stars
This is a really lovely novel written in the form of letters to and from the lovely and enchanting heroine Juliet Ashton. She is a single woman living alone in London following World War II. Juliet has had a career as an author and a columnist, but is looking for a change of pace and a new direction in her life. Through an old cast off book (she had two copies) she receives correspondence from the book's new owner, the lonely but thoughtful and handsome Dawsey Adams. Through their common interests, she comes to learn of the Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society, on the Island of Guernsey in the English Channel. She wonders if the society might be the source of some new material for a book, and begins to correspond with other members. These folks connect through a love of literature, the common experience of the war, and the overwhelming goodness of common people. Juliet becomes romantically involved with the dashing American Mark Reynolds. In doing her research, she determines to visit the Island and get to know her new friends. Upon meeting Dawsey Adams, Juliet feels a great thrill of excitement, but the islanders all wonder about her connection to her editor Sidney. Whom will Juliet choose, and what happened that brings all of these people together around the memory of one of their own who was loved and now lost?

I really enjoyed this book. I found it uplifting and fun to read. I especially liked the breezy, funny way that the letters set the tone for the book, creating a sense of friendship and camaraderie between the characters. It made dealing with the more difficult aspects of the war somewhat filtered through the perspective of each of the characters and their personalities.


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Family History Sketch- Grandma's Car

Grandma Peggy drove a white VW Bug. I must have ridden in it mostly in the summer because I remember the feeling of that black vinyl on the back of exposed legs between where my shorts ended and the point where I could get my legs away from the seat.

Grandma would take us interesting places in her Bug, such as to visit a cousin we never knew or to see her fabulously stylish friends. Even a trip to the grocery store seemed exotic if we went with Grandma.

The back seat was small, just large enough for me and my sister, Anne Marie, but certainly not for my tall, skinny uncles, John the pony-tailed Harvard grad, and Dave, who probably drove the little car on dates with his girl friend.

The vinyl gave the car a distinctly pungent smell like a hot eraser after I had erased my mistakes in my first grade mathbook. The Bug was often parked in the shade of the sagey, velvety Russian olive tree on the South side of the driveway at my grandparents' house on Laird Way. Not that the shade made any difference to the heat inside the car. Being a marvel of German engineering, the car had its trunk in the front of the car and the engine in the back. Grandpa drove a Buick, which held no appeal over the style and form of the White Bug.

Boy Blue Grows Up

I was thinking today that watching Joseph grow up is sort of like watching a tadpole become a frog.  He is at a stage where he is sometimes a child, and sometimes much more mature than I expect him to be.  It reminds me of the stage where a tadpole still has its tail, but also has its frog legs and everything.  It's a tadpole and a frog at the same time.  

I see Joseph becoming so big, and he is so tender and kindhearted.  He is so bright, and is developing some really great aptitudes in reading, math, and even piano.  He is starting to catch up to my level of knowledge in some ways and I can see a time when he will pass me by in these areas. There are times when I can really see glimpses of the man he will become someday.  Then the next second he wants me to sing him to sleep or take him to Toys R Us.