J’étais un peu réticente à l’idée de lire ce livre. J’avais beaucoup aimé [Les Invisibles] et je trouvais que le livre se suffisait à lui-même, je craignais donc que cette lecture gâche mon souvenir de la précédente ; et puis j’avais lu à plusieurs reprises que ce deuxième tome était moins bon que le premier. Je suis donc entrée un peu à reculons dans ce livre.
Et sa lecture m’a déstabilisée. On retrouve le personnage d’Ingrid Barrøy au début de l’hiver 1944, alors qu’elle rentre sur son île, seule, après avoir travaillé à l’usine sur le continent. Ingrid Barrøy ne s’en est peut-être pas rendue compte, mais 1944, c’est la guerre. Et alors qu’elle prend ses marques dans la solitude de son île, d’étranges choses commencent à se passer, et elle se retrouve tout à coup avec un naufragé dans sa maison. Je ne crois pas déflorer beaucoup de l’intrigue en disant qu’avec ce naufragé, c’est à la fois l’amour et la guerre qui s’invitent tout à coup à Barrøy.

Il est étrange ce deuxième tome. J’ai eu beaucoup de mal à entrer dans le livre. [les Invisibles] est un livre ou peu est dit, et c’est rarement la littérature que j’aime, mais cela fonctionnait très bien. Ici, j’ai l’impression que Roy Jacobsen en dit encore moins, au point que cela devient incompréhensible. Et on est là, tentant de comprendre à demi-mot ce qui se passe et en général n’y arrivant pas. Et tout cela dans un style que j’ai trouvé rugueux, sans vraiment pouvoir définir pourquoi, alors que j’avais trouvé le style du premier livre tellement doux avec les personnages, poétique même.

Et puis, puisqu’on est en 1944 au début de l’histoire qui couvre une année calendaire entière, il y a un moment où la guerre prend fin. Et là, étrangement, quasi instantanément, j’ai retrouvé le Barrøy du premier tome, celui d’une vie à la ferme simple, dure mais remplie, marquée par les saisons chacune apportant ses soucis et ses joies.
Et ces quelques dernières pages m’ont donné une perspective toute différente sur l’ensemble du livre : tout à coup le style heurté prend son sens et renforce le sentiment d’étrangeté que l’irruption de la guerre apporte dans cet îlot habituellement retiré du monde, les non-dits ne sont pas des manières d’auteur mais une façon terriblement efficace de transmettre au lecteur le sentiment d’incompréhension qui peut envahir les personnages.
En définitive, j’ai trouvé ce deuxième tome très intéressant, pas du tout une suite classique comme on s’y attend souvent dans les trilogies (celle-ci s’étant transformée entre-temps en une quadrilogie…). Je reste sur mon idée que [Les Invisibles] se suffisait à lui-même comme livre, mais puisque suite il y a et que je suis incapable de ne pas la lire, je suis surprise par ce que Roy Jacobsen a fait, et c’est une belle et étrange surprise.

http://www.eurolitnetwork.com/rivetingreviews-lizzy-sidal-reviews-white-shadow-b... ( )

“God’s love for those on the coast is not as great as for those on the mainland and in town; for protracted periods He forgets them completely, and they forget him.”

“Barroy is a land of silence, the adults don’t explain to their children what they do, they show them...”

Once I read The Unseen, I was hooked and was looking forward to reading the next books in this Norway series. It takes place in the early 20th century and follows a family named Barroy, who live on a remote island bearing their family name. It is a tough existence and with modern times fast encroaching, it is even more difficult. In White Shadow, Ingrid Barroy is once again the main character. She is in her late 30s and is the only family member still residing on the island, fishing and farming for survival. This time the country is occupied by the Nazis. The author has a very unique style capturing the mundane life and landscapes beautifully. Not as strong as The Unseen but a worthy read and I will be reading the third in the series. ( )

This book is so good, but now I feel like I need to read a book of Norwegian history! It's the second in Jacobsen's Barroy trilogy, in which the main character, Ingrid Barroy, living on a small island off the coast of Norway . In this book, the characters are dealing with Nazi occupation of Norway. The book really focuses on the lives of ordinary people and how they are impacted by the war.

The writing is beautiful and spare. (props to the translators, Don Bartlett and Don Shaw).

I definitely recommend this series, you do need to start with the first, which is The Unseen. ( )

"To survive on an island, you have to search. Ingrid had been searching since she was born, for berries, eggs, down, fish, shells, sinker stones, slate, sheep, flowers, boards, twigs...an islander's eyes are always searching...."

The story of the Barroy Island continues, and a fair number of years have passed since The Unseen ended. Many of the family have scattered, and only Ingrid and her aunt Barbro maintain ties with Barroy Island. As the novel opens, both are off-island, Barbro in the hospital and Ingrid, now 35 is working in a fish processing plant on one of the main islands. When Ingrid hears that Barbro will soon be released from the hospital, she quits her job and returns to the island. Things are much different now, however, for we are in the final year of World War II, and signs and effects of the Nazi occupation of Norway are everywhere and the islanders have suffered much. When Ingrid arrives back home, she immediately begins to feel that she is no longer alone on the island, and soon she discovers several bodies washed up on the shore, apparently wounded soldiers. Then she finds that she is indeed not alone on the island.

Unlike the first book in this trilogy in which the entire world consisted of the Barroy family unit and a few of their neighboring islanders, in this entry there is a broader palette and the outside world intrudes. There are many characters from the outside world, primarily refugees, but also German soldiers, Russian POWs, and townspeople, including loyalists and collaborators. Despite the wider perspective, however, the emphasis is still on the harshness of life on the island and surrounding environs, and on the resilience and ingenuity of the people. I don't know why I so loved reading about setting out the fishing nets in winter, gutting the fish and cutting out their livers and tongues, salting and drying them. Then there's shearing the sheep, carding the wool, spinning the wool, and darning their sweaters, not to mention plowing, planting, and reaping the hay to feed the sheep, digging potatoes, making red currant jam, and on and on and on.

Perhaps I didn't love this one as much as the first, but it's still very, very good, and I loved it. Be aware though that it lacks the intimacy of the first to a certain extent, and because of the war, there are some pretty gruesome and graphic parts.

4 stars

First line(s): "The fish came first. Man is merely a persistent guest."

Last line: 'Ingrid sees it all, half in a daze, the first winter storm is on its way." ( )