High commercial and critical acclaim as well as friends
personal recommendations and even a drunk woman on the tube all told me I
needed to read this book, and like a child peer-pressured into smoking I
buckled. However, after all the build up I feel the book became a victim of its
own hype, much like Lady Gaga’s last album. Don’t get me wrong; it’s a very
good book, very powerful and touching but I didn’t really engage with it as much
as I wanted to. I liked it but I didn’t love it like I was told I would.
The story is simple enough; it follows a young German girl, called Liesel, through her early teens in 1939 Nazi Germany, her family, friends, loves and her very naughty habit of stealing books. Oh, and it’s told through the perspective of Death, that’s quite important.
At first I wasn’t sure if it
worked, having Death narrate the story, a very interesting and original concept
that to me seemed a bit pointless and kind of a gimmicky. I mean how could Death,
who had a lot to do at that time, follow a girl around? But as the book
progressed, it comes clear that he is reading the girls story from a book
himself. That book was written by Liesel, who has been taught to read and write
by her foster father Hans Huberman, using the basement wall as canvas for practicing
how to spell. The Book Thief is all about words and stories and their importance.
Liesel’s family have a secret that no one but the three of
them, Death and the reader share. It’s a Jew in the basement and that is not
something recommended to be keeping in Nazi Germany. His name is Max who writes
and draws short stories for Liesel on the white painted pages of the book that
saved his life, Hitler’s ‘Mein Kampf’ ironically. I really like Max’s books,
their crude, childlike drawings and simple text has so much more power then Death
moaning about how busy he was in 1942.
I almost felt Death was too compassionate
towards the people he collected, should Death show emotion when he has to do
what he does? As the book progresses, we do of course witness some
horrible moments, including a particular horrendous march of Jews down the
street, reminding us of the disgusting level humanity can sink to and often did
at the time. The ending of the book is also harrowing, made even more prominent
by Deaths blunt and powerfully simple story telling. I won’t lie, at first I
wasn’t as impressed by this book but as the story wore on I became more and
more invested in Liesel, so much so that I couldn’t help feeling the pain, the
anguish, the regret and even the happiness the came with it. Read The Book
Thief and see for yourself.
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