By Ana Oglivie

My absolute favorite high school class was an English elective called World Literature. We read nearly a dozen novels and short stories based in locations worldwide. I became a time traveler immersed in a foreign culture with each book, so Valpy’s story of Josie, Zoe, and Casablanca was right up my alley (and the cover was too dreamy to pass up). 

By 1941, Casablanca has become a hub for refugees fleeing Europe on the precipice of World War II. Josie, her Maman, Papa, and older sister Annette find themselves among many other families waiting in Moroccan queues to obtain visas for the United States. Despite the sudden uprooting, Josie’s Papa, a successful banker in Paris, is adamant about giving his family a noteworthy experience on the run. However, with her Maman’s Jewish background, money may not save Josie’s family from the terrors that reached every Boulevard and Ville it could find. Josie’s fearlessness and keen awareness are what I think we all would like to imagine ourselves possessing as a child living through the Second World War.

As a new millennium begins, Zoe and her husband find themselves fleeing to Casablanca, desperately trying to escape their own war. Like Josie’s nightmare, it follows the couple to the Boulevard des Oiseaux, where Zoe discovers twelve-year-old Josie’s accounts of life in Casablanca hidden under a rickety floorboard. Although Josie and Zoe are separated by seventy years, their bond is knit through each page of Josie’s journal. Zoe finds respite in Josie’s penmanship, but even Josie’s buoyant and hopeful accounts may not be enough to save Zoe from her past. 

Fiona Valpy weaves a textured masterpiece of tragedy, hope, and healing into a single novel. Her careful research aligns two stories of inspired fiction to a macro history event with ease. Valpy’s plot moves at such an even-keel pace that I honestly had to put the book down. And when I finally picked The Storyteller of Casablanca up again, I had a distinct mindset shift. If Zoe doesn’t skip to the end of Josie’s journal, then I can stop anticipating the ending of this book and instead enjoy the story. So, I enjoyed the coasts, mountains, and ports of Morocco with Josie and opened my heart as Zoe began volunteering at a local refugee center for women. The refugee center where Zoe and I both learned that African quilt patterns were designed to communicate safe houses and escape routes to other refugees for generations. And, as a foodie, I especially savored the details of each traditional dish Josie discovered through her friendship with Nina, a Casablanca native.

By the very last page, I was sad to have reached the end. I truthfully wasn’t ready to part with our leading ladies because Valpy will keep you coming back. Her own Josie and Zoe are fighters who keep coming back. They each endure unimaginable grief and still become the heroines of their own stories. From encounters with Josephine Baker to standing up to the Gestapo to roaming the streets of a foreign medina alone, Fiona Valpy sure knows how to empower. If you’re looking for a slow and steady read to escape into, this is the book for you. If you’re willing to open your heart to a different world and time, I would recommend Valpy’s The Storyteller of Casablanca. If you’re not ready to sit back and let the scenes unfold before you, you’ll want to try this read another time. And I do mean try it because it does not disappoint. Once you turn the last page, you’ll know what I mean.