The Forest of Vanishing Stars
The Forest of Vanishing Stars
By: Kristin Harmel
“She thought she was teaching them how to live, but now she realized that in many ways, she had been the student all along. ”
I’ve read two of Kristin Harmel’s other WWII novels: The Room on Rue Amelié and The Book of Lost Names, both of which are worth reading. This one is no different.
Part wilderness survival, part love story, The Forest of Vanishing Stars has a unique take on the typical WWII historical fiction we read. (Which speaks to her ability as an author seeing as WWII novels are a dime a dozen)
Most of this book takes place in a forest. There is no espionage or grand escape from occupied Germany.
It is just the daily grind of Jews surviving in the forest.
I’ll insert here the inspiration for this story. The forests around Poland are vast and many people fled to them to hide and wait out the Nazis. One particular group grew quite large— 1200 strong— led by the Bielski brothers. It was basically a settlement in the Nalibocka wilderness that largely survived the war and attempting many missions to thwart the Germans.
[Their story is depicted in the 2008 movie Defiance that is streaming on Netflix right now and appears to have good ratings. I plan to watch.]
Though The Forest of Vanishing Stars is about a fictional group (not the Bielskis) their experiences would be similar.
Yona is our protagonist. Stolen from her home in Berlin at the age of 2 by an elderly woman, Jerusza, she grew up in the forest. Jerusza claimed she was rescuing Yona. She made it her mission to teach Yona all the things: reading, math, science, history, self-defense… but most importantly— how to survive in the wilderness. (This was a bit of a Mother Gothel/Rapunzel relationship.)
When Jerusza dies and Yona unexpectedly encounters a Jewish refugee in the forest, Yona goes against the principle of isolation Jerusza drilled into her and, compelled by compassion, decides to offer them her assistance.
This is the story of how Yona helps a growing group of Jewish escapees survive years in the Nalibocka Forest, and develops a romantic relationship with one of them.
However, it is not a story void of danger, violence, and heart-wrenching loss. One example of what a Nazi did to a woman’s baby is seared into my brain. I don’t think we can ever read a WWII novel without feeling the immense cruelty, hardship, and losses suffered.
Harmel included this shocking statistic in the informational author’s note at the end: More than 3.3 million Jews lived in Poland— the highest percentage of Jews anywhere in Europe. Between 2.8 and 3 million Polish Jews were murdered during the war, amounting to between 84% and 91% of the entire Jewish population of Poland. I can’t get over this devastation.
I read Where I End at the same time as this book, and this quote below speaks to such tragedy:
“Sin makes no sense. To explain and come to an understanding of sin is to justify it, to reconcile what can never be reconciled. Sin is illogical, irrational, impossible, absurd by creational categories. It is humanity unhinged, humankind decisively breaking from the One who gave them life, the One who has only ever sought to bless His created with every good gift. And we are deep in it. The darkness, the sadness, and wickedness is felt from without and within.”
To change gears—I am not one for wilderness survival stories. I read My Side of the Mountain in grade school and kinda feel like I got all the distressing wilderness hypotheticals, skinning rabbits, hollowed trees, and berry-foraging that I need. So I thought this story would be a bit boring for me.
But while the pace is indeed slow, I still found it to be a captivating story!
I think knowing it is based on real experiences during real events, I don’t view it as a distressing hypothetical but both an act of sharing in their grief and witnessing their triumph. For, as we read, to survive is the best kind of revenge.
I don’t have much to critique of this book, just these bits: Harmel incorporating the slight supernatural element of “visions” and “premonitions” of approaching danger didn’t do much for me. Jerusza predicted the years of both of their deaths—what am I supposed to do with that? I don’t know how I was supposed to feel about Jerusza—Yona didn’t either. Was she good or bad? Or just odd? I just feel like the premonitions take away from the characters and diminish their other qualities. But at the same time, I can recognize its place in the story; I just didn’t really like that part.
The other bit came in the author’s note when Harmel relates some of her conversation with an elderly Aron Bielski to us. She had asked him what message he would like to share with the world today and it began “Be nice if at all possible…” Harmel emphasizes this part suggesting if we all did this every day we could be the change in the world. It’s a nice sentiment and I’m sure it wouldn’t hurt anything, but I don’t think this is the true change we need to see in the world.
Aron does mention that there is too much hate, and that is closer to the target, in my opinion. ‘Being nice’ is artificial and disingenuous if we still hold contempt for people or people groups in our hearts— no ‘intersection’ gets a pass. We need to start seeing every person as an image-bearer of God. A created being by the Creator. Failure to recognize this leads to contempt which leads to every kind of evil. [Jen Wilkin talks about this in her book Ten Words to Live By] This bit doesn’t affect the quality of this book at all, but was a relevant message the author gave in the end that I wanted to counter here.
I did think it was interesting how much Harmel included of the people questioning God and displaying their faith even in the midst of such tragedy.
Yona questions: “Was faith futile in times like these? Where was God in all of this, in this world where people starved to death or perished at the hands of cruel and heartless men? Where was God when neighbors turned against each other?”
We can’t help but ask ‘Where is God?’ when we encounter such evil. And we don’t always get the answers we want. Evil doesn’t make sense. But we do have this answer: God was there. He doesn’t always share the why’s with us, but he promises his presence, his love, his peace. However hard it is to grasp sometimes.
The Forest of Vanishing Stars, in beautiful title, is both literal and metaphorical. The tiny beacons of light high in the sky shadowed by the towering trees of the forest. And the light of the men, women, and children, branded with stars and forced to flee. The struggle of darkness and light.
I recently read this verse and thought it fitting.
“Lift up your eyes on high and see:
who created these?
He who brings out their host by number,
calling them all by name;
by the greatness of his might
and because he is strong in power,
not one is missing.”
Isaiah 40:26
The tragedy was real. The answers are scarce. But each vanishing star was created, named, and not forgotten. The sovereign, loving Lord is in control and he sees and he has the final word.
Stupid sidenote: This book cover confuses me. The red coat seems more significant here than it did in the book. And there were no relevant planes… I would have liked to see a cover with a more ominous forest on it. Just sayin.
**Received and ARC via NetGalley**
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