The Book Thief by Markus Zusak
I must have been hiding when this book was released two years ago. I love everything Zusak writes, and usually his books jump to the top of the queue. But this one was out for ages before I even saw it, let alone got my hands on it.
When I saw it was nearly 600 pages long, I did pause. That is a serious time committment and when editors and others are waiting for reviews, I can’t justify a book that will take days just for myself. But Tuesday this week I had a 10 hour train journey and I had found an ideal time and place.
The book is set in Germany during WWII. The chief narrator is Death, OK…unusual viewpoint. The protagonist is a young 10 year old girl being sent into foster care by her mother. On the way her younger brother, already very ill, dies and at his burial Liesel finds her first book, The Gravedigger’s Handbook. Although she cannot read or write, she takes it as a memorial.
When she arrives at her new foster home, she is sent to school for the first time. Since she doesn’t even know her letters, she is placed in with the very small children and made to feel foolish by them. Gradually she makes friends and establishes herself, but reading still eludes her. That is until her Papa begins her midnight lessons.
Placing this book in a neat category is hard. It is a war story, told from the point of view of civilians. It is a tale of family and friendship. The political statement about standing up to the bullies even if they wear a Nazi uniform is powerful. And then there is the poetry of the words.
Consider this brief extract… (remember Death is narrating)
“On June 23, 1942, there was a group of French Jews in a German prison, on Polish soil….Please believe me when I tell you that I picked up each soul that day as if it were newly born. I even kissed a few weary, poisoned cheeks….I took them all away, and if ever there was a time I needed distraction, this was it. In complete desolation, I looked at the world above. I watched the sky as it turned from silver to grey to the colour of rain. Even the clouds tried to look the other way….They were French, they were Jews, and they were you.”
It makes me sad to realise very few will read this book. Those seeking a simple narrative, action and adventure will not even make it through the first few pages. I know several adults who have taken it home and returned it a few days later with the comment ‘I couldn’t get into it.’ This book will not sweep you up in the storyline and carry you away. It will force you to pause, and think and even read bits again because they are just worded so beautifully.
Thank you Zusak.
