1939, Warsaw: All her life, Zofia has found comfort in two things during times of hardship: books and her best friend since childhood, Janina.
But now as Germany bombs and destroys their city, and the horror increases around her, Zofia jumps to action to save her friend and salvage whatever books she can from the wreckage, hiding them away, and even starting a clandestine book club. She and her dearest friend never surrender their love of reading, even when Janina, half Jewish, is forced to relocate into the newly formed Warsaw ghetto.
But life only becomes more dangerous for the women and their families – and escape may not be possible for everyone. Through the war raging around them, Marta and Janina find hope and the will in each other to survive, and fight using the only weapon they have left – literature.
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Warsaw, Poland August 1939
ZOFIA NOWAK SAT BACK on her calves in the warm summer grass while her friend Janina clumsily wound a bandage around her head. The other pairs of Girl Guides sat in a semicircle beneath the oak trees in Łazienki Park, all working to perfect their first aid skills. Not that the looming war on Poland would ever come to Warsaw.
Still, it was wise to be ready and everyone in the city was preparing in their own particular way. For Papa, it was stocking medical supplies at the hospital while Zofia’s mother waited in endless grocer’s lines to ensure their cabinets were overflowing with tinned food. Posters were plastered all over the city asking men to line up at elementary schools and enlist, and radio stations filled the air with the pulse of patriotic music.
And it was why Helen Keller’s The Story of My Life was nestled in Zofia’s bag, another read inspired by the list of books Hitler had banned in Germany.
Zofia pulled the bandage from her head and repurposed the linen to bind a splint onto Janina’s lower leg. “How’s that?”
“It feels good.” Janina wriggled her limb. “Studying medicine like your father might be a good choice for next year.”
Rather than reply, Zofia considered her handiwork.
“Have you decided what you want to do after our final exams?” Janina’s voice was gentle as she spoke, but nothing could lighten the pressing decision that weighed on Zofia every day.
This was their last year of secondary school, a final exam away from graduating. They would be eighteen then—adults. The whole world stretched out ahead of them like a runway so they could soar into the future.
For everyone, except her.
“You sound like Matka,” Zofia groused.
Though it wasn’t really true. Janina’s characteristic delicacy was nowhere near the brusque tone of Zofia’s mother. Whether she was insisting Zofia dress nicer, be more outgoing, or be more proactive with choosing a career path—something lucrative, like medicine—there was always a demanding air about her mother. Which was precisely why Zofia referred to her in the more formal regard as Matka, rather than Mama.
Janina’s mother was a Mama. The type to smile and ask after a test, or to offer hugs on a bad day rather than criticism.
Perhaps that was why Janina was always so kind and considerate. It was that congeniality that started their friendship so many years ago when they were children. Zofia had never been gregarious, more the kind to keep to herself and tuck into a book than drum up conversation with people she didn’t
know. Being the tallest in class did her no favors, leaving her feeling as though she stuck out like an ugly duckling among baby chicks. On Janina’s first day in school, she’d strode over to Zofia with an enviable confidence and shared some of the flower-shaped butter cookies her mother had baked, filling in any silence between them with an animated chatter that made Zofia instantly like her.
Now, Janina moved her leg, testing Zofia’s bandage. “If I sound like Matka, then I take back my suggestion.” The loosely tied bandage gave and the neat knot slipped free, the band unraveling from her leg. One of the splints tilted over into the grass.
“Being in medicine is not my path, evidently.” Zofia collected the splint with what she hoped was an uncaring smile. “I think Papa understands.”
Her father was a renowned doctor in Warsaw, specializing in surgeries. His was a name that would be impossible to live up to, especially for a daughter who couldn’t commit to any kind of future.
“You love to read.” Janina blew a lock of dark hair out of her brown eyes. “Maybe you could study literature.” She gasped in excitement and sat up straighter. “Perhaps you could become an author, like Marta Krakowska.”
It sounded ridiculous even when Janina said it with such sincerity. While Zofia had no idea what she wanted to do, she did know she was no Marta Krakowska. The author penned epic tales of romance featuring lovers who meet amid the strife of war. Every story was better than the last, each ending in contented happiness for the couple and a little calico cat.
But Zofia didn’t believe in romance, and she didn’t have the lyrical voice of Krakowska. She was no author, to be sure.
Zofia pulled the other splint from Janina’s leg and wound the bandage into a neat ball. “Did you read The Story of My Life yet?”
Janina’s eyes lit up. “I did. What an incredible—”
“No,” a voice called out from the pair beside them.
Their friend Maria shook her head, blond curls swaying, her arm extended toward her Guide partner, who had it wrapped partially to the elbow. “You can’t talk about the book right now, when I can barely hear you.”
“At the library then.” Janina turned her attention back to Zofia with a mischievous glint in her eye. “But you clearly want to change the subject, so let’s turn to something more pleasant. Like how much you’re looking forward to school tomorrow.”
Zofia groaned and Maria turned away with a quiet smile.
Math was tediously dull, the series of numbers lacking any real challenge. Government was dryer than the dust gathering on her unopened textbooks from last year. Even art was awful. While Zofia appreciated the beauty of it, the medium of their application was of little interest to her. Oh, and how she hated, hated, hated being subjected to the mediocrity of her own limited skills when forced to try her hand. On and on it went with every class, each one more lackluster than the last.
Except literature. She did enjoy that subject.
At least at university, her courses would be tailored to her future endeavors. Whatever they might be.
Their Girl Guide captain, Krystyna, clapped her hands to get their attention, sparing Janina a sardonic reply from Zofia about just how much she was not looking forward to school tomorrow.
“Great job today, Guides.” Krystyna looked around the circle of paired-off girls, her head lifted with satisfaction. “War with Germany is coming, and Poland must be ready. At least the Girl Guides definitely are.”
Warmth effused Zofia’s chest at those words.
The Girl Guides was a scouting organization meant to prepare girls and young women for life with social skills, philanthropic ideals, and the ability to offer aid to the public in whatever form was needed.
If Germany did attack, the Girl Guides’ efforts would help Poland.
Zofia was part of the generation of Poles born in a free state after regaining its sovereignty during the Treaty of Versailles. It was something Poland had fought for more than one hundred and twenty years to obtain. From their earliest days, they were fed tales of heroism and bravery until their eyes burned bright with patriotism and their hearts thumped with Polish pride.
Theirs might be a country young in her independence, having only just celebrated twenty years, but she was ready to cut her teeth on victory.
Something the Germans would likely soon learn.
“What does Antek say about the war?” Janina asked as they pushed up from the grass.
Zofia smoothed a hand over her hair to tame her waves back into place after Janina’s bandaging attempts.
Like most men and boys in Warsaw, her brother was a self-appointed battle strategist in casting his predictions on the impending incursion. The map he had tacked on his wall was crowded with red-tipped pins representing the German army where they clustered around potential attack points.
“He thinks it’ll start in Gdansk.” She kept her tone glib. Antek may be one year older than Zofia, but that didn’t mean she trusted his assessment. “Maybe it’ll happen before school starts tomorrow.”
“Zofia,” Janina scolded. “You shouldn’t say such things.”
Zofia picked a blade of grass from where it had stuck to her knee and grinned up at Janina. “Maybe you should come see his map sometime.”
Janina’s face went red, just as Zofia knew it would. Though the two had been friends for well over a decade, Antek had never noticed Janina until earlier that year. Ever since, he’d made a fool of himself whenever she visited, tripping over his words and giving a funny smile that made a little muscle under his right eye tick.
And as much as Janina protested her own lack of affection for him, Zofia caught her discreet glances and inevitable blushes.
Maria sidled up next to Zofia, her honey-brown eyes as brilliant as Baltic amber. “Are we still going to the library? Papa was recently in Paris and said he’d bring me with him on his next trip. I have to study more books.”
“More?” Janina teased.
As any Francophile worth her Parisian silk, Maria knew everything about the city. And, no, it was not enough that Warsaw was considered the Paris of Eastern Europe. She wanted Paris. The Paris of all the world.
The trio wandered toward Koszykowa Street, keeping to the shadows where the late-August sun couldn’t beat down upon them. They were at the main branch of the Warsaw Public Library nearly every day now, not that Zofia minded.
In previous times, however, they might have gone to the cinema or purchased ice cream from one of the vendors in the park, but the recent lack of coins made such things difficult.
Rumor had it that Hitler ordered all the bronze and nickel coins out of Poland until not a groszy remained, so little things like a single postage stamp or an ice cream were impossible to pay for.
“Can we finally talk about The Story of My Life?” Janina slid a pointed glance toward Maria, who smirked.
“Now that I can hear and participate without being wrapped up like a mummy, yes.” Her chin lifted slightly, a sure sign she’d had her way.
“What Helen Keller has been able to accomplish in her life is truly incredible.” Janina nudged Maria with her elbow. “As I was going to say before.”
“That’s why I thought this was such a good selection to all read together,” Zofia said. It had been her idea for them to read Germany’s banned books as a slight against Hitler. Maria and Janina had agreed, but only after Maria accused Zofia of trying to assign them all summer homework. Once Janina was on board, so was Maria. So far this was the fourth banned book they had read.
Zofia turned to regard her friends, almost tripping over a crack in the walkway. “Did you know she wrote a letter to Hitler and the students of Germany who burned books?”
“Really?” Maria’s brows lifted.
A chimney sweep passed, and the three young women immediately grasped for a button on their Girl Guide uniforms. After all, who would turn down an opportunity for good luck with war on the horizon?
From THE KEEPER OF HIDDEN BOOKS by Madeline Martin. Copyright 2023 Madeline Martin. Published by Hanover Square Press, an imprint of HarperCollins.
About the Author
Madeline Martin is a New York Times, USA Today, and internationally bestselling author of historical fiction and historical romance with books that have been translated into over twenty-five different languages.
She lives in sunny Florida with her two daughters (known collectively as the minions), two incredibly spoiled cats and a man so wonderful he's been dubbed Mr. Awesome. She is a die-hard history lover who will happily lose herself in research any day. When she's not writing, researching or 'moming', you can find her spending time with her family at Disney or sneaking a couple spoonfuls of Nutella while laughing over cat videos. She also loves research and travel, attributing her fascination with history to having spent most of her childhood as an Army brat in Germany.
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