To start with, I really like the title. Its all mysterious and nerdy at the same time. But I'm not gonna lie, though, I don't totally understand the cover art here. I like it, and I get it, but I don't GET it. That makes sense, doesn't it. I mean I get the metaphor, but its only OK, not great. I recently saw an alternate cover to it that I liked more.
Ready for the main reason why the creepy cover is cooler? It's not like it's a scary story, but it's told from the point of view of Death. Yeah, you heard me. Death is personified and telling a story. And death isn't all that scary in this story. Actually, he seems like a character I could relate to who just happens to have a really sucky job.
So in this book, Death is telling us the story of Liesel. When she is nine, Liesel boards a train along with her mother and brother. It is during World War II and the kids are on their way to meet their new foster family. Death never tells us exactly what's going on with Mom, but it's pretty safe to say that she's in trouble and giving up her kids is the only way to save them. That in itself is touching, but maybe that's just because I'm a mother and appreciate how difficult that would be. On the train ride, however, Liesel's brother passes away. It is her first personal experience with death. At his burial, a tiny thing in unfamiliar territory with grave diggers who are not too worried about about showing sympathy, Liesel steals a book. She doesn't know why exactly, but the copy of The Gravediggers Handbook (that she doesn't know how to read) helps her remember her family.
In these troubling times, however, no one has an opportunity to properly mourn. Liesel still moves in with her foster parents, an tough talking laundry lady and a caring accordion playing man. Liesel wakes up regularly with nightmares about her brother. Her foster father helps her regain her composure and fall back asleep by teaching her how to read out of The Gravediggers Handbook. Not exactly the greatest material by today's standards but it was wartime, the family was broke, and it was available. Leisel grew hungry for books, stealing several more as the years passed.
At the same time, Liesel meets a variety of friends that mean the world to her. Her neighbor, Rudy, is undoubtedly her best friend. Max, the Jewish man hiding in her basement, is a reliable companion, although just knowing him is a crime. The mayor's wife is an interesting person. And, of course, it doesn't take long for Liesel to fall in love with her foster parents.
What I Love
- The unique perspective brought by the narrator. Like I said, Death isn't a bad guy like you would imagine. He remembers the experience and even feels emotional about it. And he associates colors with events.
- It is not the same ubiquitous Jewish survival tale. Sure, you have an refugee, but more than that it describes the average German family during the war. It wasn't soldiers and prisoners. There were people in between that were stuck. They didn't have money or power. They had to make do with what they have. That creates a huge opportunity for the reader to place themselves in the position of the characters because that is likely where we would be.
- When bad things happen, like a bomb threat, the families don't have some big backup plan. They don't have a fancy fallout shelter like this
No, they hear the sirens and gather in a neighbors basement, huddling in fear. - Liesel put value in the same things I do. Her friends and family. Reading and knowledge.
- It shows that people a lot of people had to "go along to get along." When Rudy, a budding track star, pretended to be Jesse Owens, his father had to try to explain why he was luckier being who he was than being the Olympic medalist. Leisel's father resists joining the Nazi party, but loses business and friends as a result. And he eventually ends up joining just to avoid arrest.
- It made me cry. OK, usually this makes me mad. It did in this case, too. But at the same time I think it gives merit to the writing. I have to really like the characters and lose myself in the writing to care enough to cry. And the only reason it made me really mad is because I read in public a lot. In this case it was the middle of class, when I extended reading time so I could finish the chapter and all the kids were like "Ms. Mac! What's wrong?"
Interesting Quotes
- Here is a small fact: You are going to die. I am in all truthfulness attempting to be cheerful about this whole topic, though most people find themselves hindered in believing me, no matter my protestations. Please trust me. I most definitely can be cheerful. I can be amiable. Agreeable. Affable. And that's only the A's. Just don't ask me to be nice. Nice has nothing to do with me.
- And these are the lines that open the book. Honesty. Likeable. Understanding. Full of personality. It's Death.
- Like most misery, it started with apparent happiness.
- I wanted to tell the book thief many things, about beauty and brutality. But what could I tell her about those things that she didn't already know? I wanted to explain that I am constantly overestimating and underestimating the human race-that rarely do I ever simply estimate it. I wanted to ask her how the same thing could be so ugly and so glorious, and its words and stories so damning and brilliant.
- People observe the colors of a day only at its beginnings and ends, but to me it's quite clear that a day merges through a multitude of shades and intonations with each passing moment. A single hour can consist of thousands of different colors. Waxy yellows, cloud-spot blues. Murky darkness. In my line of work, I make it a point to notice them.
- The last time I saw her was red. The sky was like soup, boiling and stirring. In some places it was burned. There were black crumbs and pepper, streaked across the redness.
- As I said, Death associates colors with events. I think it's amazing in its insite.
- In the beginning, it was the profanity that made an immediate impact. It was so vehement and prolific. Every other word was either Sumensch or Soukerl or Arschloch.
- That's how the foster mother is first described and then she softens into saing things like Give me a kiss, Soukerl. (All of these are, of course, indecent speech in German.)
Even though it's been a while since I've read the story, it still leaves me with a strong feeling. Sadness of remembering. Hope of some strange sort. Awareness. And, of course, I pay a lot of attention to the colors of the world.
