All the Beautiful Things

Nannestad, Katrina, All the Beautiful Things, HarperCollins Publishers, October 2024, 352 pp., RRP $22.99 (pbk), ISBN 9780733343148

We first meet Anna and her friend Udo playing as any twelve year old children should. But this is January 1943, and Anna and Udo live in a German village under the shadow (both metaphoric and physical) of Hitler’s holiday home in the Bavarian Alps.

Anna’s little sister Eva was born with a disability. Her body is weak, but her heart is big; Eva has a gift for loving. But the Nazis don’t recognise such treasure. They want everyone to be the same. Strong of body, quick to listen and obey. Nothing else matters. If you’re different, you don’t belong. Not belonging in the Fuhrer’s glorious Third Reich is dangerous. So Eva must be hidden.

Anna’s father died fighting in Russia, so it’s just Anna, Eva and their mother Mutti. Hiding Eva from the Nazis dominates their every waking moment. They have heard the terrible stories of Gestapo taking children like Eva away, supposedly to hospitals where they will be looked after. But these children are never heard of again. In the author’s notes, Nannestad provides more information regarding the inspiration for this story.

Like the author’s previous books, We Are Wolves, Rabbit, Soldier, Angel, Thief and Waiting for the Storks Nannestad uses her young protagonists to bring a story about war to life for a contemporary reader. These events may have occurred 80 years ago, but the emotions experienced by the children and their families are universal and timeless.

As loyalties are divided, and more children must be hidden from the Gestapo, Anna grows in maturity. She finds unexpected allies and new enemies. She realises that a person can be both a hero and a traitor. It depends on your point of view.

As always, Nannestad has delivered a heartfelt and nuanced story of children impacted by war. She has done her research, and used it to add enough detail to make the story sing, without bogging it down with too much. Her characters behave and sound like real children.

Highly recommended historic fiction for readers aged 10 years and older.

Reviewed by Gaby Meares

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