In the first sentence of The Nightingale, Hannah suggests that war provides a window into people’s truest self: “In love we find out who we want to be; in war we find out who we are” (1). This idea—that the stress and pressure of wartime function as a test of character—serves as the backdrop to every major decision the characters make in the novel that follows.

This is particularly true of Hannah’s depiction of the increasing persecution (and eventual deportation and murder) of France’s Jewish population. Because Holocaust victims are innocent civilians and even children, the moral choice it presents to the novel’s characters is particularly stark: those who actively participate or simply look the other way are, at best, prioritizing their own survival over their sense of justice and shared humanity. This is the realization Vianne—who was previously reluctant to take sides for fear of her and her daughter’s safety—eventually comes to, telling Sophie they “have to try to save [a Jewish child] or [they] are as bad as they are” (418). Likewise, it is noteworthy that Beck—the most sympathetic of the novel’s German characters—ultimately feels tainted by his participation and tries to save Rachel and her children.

That said, not all the moral questions posed by the Nazi occupation of France are so black and white, and the novel eventually complicates what first seems to be the clear distinction between its two main characters.