The Book Thief
Author: Markus Zusak
Published Date: March 2006
Letter Grade: A+
This book has haunted me for some time now. I'd pick it up for a bit--at the bookstore, at home, after I'd bought it--and set it down again, only to have it follow me, silently plaguing me with its presence.
It took me quite a while to finally finish this book. Well over a month. I read the last 80 or so pages just now, and, upon putting the book down at last, couldn't stop shaking for several minutes.
It's an odd book.
Narrated by the most overused character in the history of the written word, Death himself, it's the story of Liesel Meminger, a young German girl who arrives in Molching, a little town of Munich, Germany, to live with her foster parents, Hans and Rosa Hubermann, in January 1939.
There's more, of course. To quote Death's words on the inside flap of the cover: "It's just a small story really, about, among other things: a girl, some words, an accordionist, some fanatical Germans, a Jewish fist fighter, and quite a lot of thievery..."
As a general rule, aside from the occasion foray, I stay away from books taking place during World War II. Inevitably, what happens is this: I get angry. I cry. I want to hit some long dead fellow with a Chaplinesque mustache. Or if not him, any number of others. In other words, the experience is more emotionally draining than any funeral I've ever been to.
S0, with this sense to trepidation, I sat down to begin The Book Thief, knowing that, on some level, I wouldn't be the same when I finished it.
It's a rare book that does that to you. I have read a great many books. Hundreds of them. I'd go so far as to say thousands, or at least a thousand. Very few have had such an effect on me.
My Life-Changing Novels:
1. The Andalite Chronicles by K.A. Applegate
2. The Book Thief by Markus Zusak
3. A tale about a cat and a mouse, whose title I have long since forgotten.
For the first, I'd attribute the cause for a period in my life which literally saved my life. For the third, well... the third was the first book on which I ever based a fanfic. Though, being only 6, I didn't know that's what it was, and at any rate, thirteen years later I'm still writing because of it.
As for the second, I'm not quite sure what the lasting effect will be. Certainly I couldn't see that ahead of time for either of the others. However, having experienced the earth-shaking effects of a life-changing book before, I know what it feels like.
The book itself goes on for a good 550 pages. We are handed the tale of Liesel and people of Himmel Street, Molching, secondhand through Death, who tells us of the book thief and the books she stole. And of a German Jesse Owens. And of an old woman and the spit-stained door she aims at. An accordian-playing promise-keeper. A Jewish fist-fighter who hides and writes and lives in a basement filled with painted words. A crazy Nazi shopkeeper. A lot of pigs (Saumensch. Saukerl. What terms of endearment)
And, of course, the Fuhrer. Yes, him, too.
Funny thing about the Fuhrer. For a man who so upheld this so called ideal of the "Aryan" race, he looked an awful lot like that which he was so keen to destroy.
How, I ask you, could no one see that?
Author: Markus Zusak
Published Date: March 2006
Letter Grade: A+
This book has haunted me for some time now. I'd pick it up for a bit--at the bookstore, at home, after I'd bought it--and set it down again, only to have it follow me, silently plaguing me with its presence.
It took me quite a while to finally finish this book. Well over a month. I read the last 80 or so pages just now, and, upon putting the book down at last, couldn't stop shaking for several minutes.
It's an odd book.
Narrated by the most overused character in the history of the written word, Death himself, it's the story of Liesel Meminger, a young German girl who arrives in Molching, a little town of Munich, Germany, to live with her foster parents, Hans and Rosa Hubermann, in January 1939.
There's more, of course. To quote Death's words on the inside flap of the cover: "It's just a small story really, about, among other things: a girl, some words, an accordionist, some fanatical Germans, a Jewish fist fighter, and quite a lot of thievery..."
As a general rule, aside from the occasion foray, I stay away from books taking place during World War II. Inevitably, what happens is this: I get angry. I cry. I want to hit some long dead fellow with a Chaplinesque mustache. Or if not him, any number of others. In other words, the experience is more emotionally draining than any funeral I've ever been to.
S0, with this sense to trepidation, I sat down to begin The Book Thief, knowing that, on some level, I wouldn't be the same when I finished it.
It's a rare book that does that to you. I have read a great many books. Hundreds of them. I'd go so far as to say thousands, or at least a thousand. Very few have had such an effect on me.
My Life-Changing Novels:
1. The Andalite Chronicles by K.A. Applegate
2. The Book Thief by Markus Zusak
3. A tale about a cat and a mouse, whose title I have long since forgotten.
For the first, I'd attribute the cause for a period in my life which literally saved my life. For the third, well... the third was the first book on which I ever based a fanfic. Though, being only 6, I didn't know that's what it was, and at any rate, thirteen years later I'm still writing because of it.
As for the second, I'm not quite sure what the lasting effect will be. Certainly I couldn't see that ahead of time for either of the others. However, having experienced the earth-shaking effects of a life-changing book before, I know what it feels like.
The book itself goes on for a good 550 pages. We are handed the tale of Liesel and people of Himmel Street, Molching, secondhand through Death, who tells us of the book thief and the books she stole. And of a German Jesse Owens. And of an old woman and the spit-stained door she aims at. An accordian-playing promise-keeper. A Jewish fist-fighter who hides and writes and lives in a basement filled with painted words. A crazy Nazi shopkeeper. A lot of pigs (Saumensch. Saukerl. What terms of endearment)
And, of course, the Fuhrer. Yes, him, too.
Funny thing about the Fuhrer. For a man who so upheld this so called ideal of the "Aryan" race, he looked an awful lot like that which he was so keen to destroy.
How, I ask you, could no one see that?
posted by Steph | 3:37 PM
2 Comments:
1. The Ellimist Chronicles
2. Thus Spake Zarathustra
3. An Enquiry Concerning Human Understanding
4. The Memory Book
...on second thought, almost a year later, this is probably more accurate, in order of decreasing degrees of impact:
1. The Ellimist Chronicles
2. Accidental Genius
3. The Einstein Factor
3. An Enquiry Concerning Human Understanding
3. Thus Spake Zarathustra
The first I read in 7th grade, the second and third I read on and off between 11th and my first year of college, and the last two I didn't read till college.
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