Saturday's Book Corner

I read this week's book selection, The Book Thief, by Markus Zusak, about a year ago.  I've not been able to stop thinking about it since.  I've taken the opportunity to recommend it to as many people as I can, youth or adult.  The Book Thief, just shy of 600 pages, could be a daunting task for some of you who shy away from a lengthy read, but it is sooooooooooo worth your time.

 
Zusak sets his book in Nazi Germany; stories of that era have always been an immediate draw for me, so I knew without a second thought that I had to read this book.  I knew mere pages in that it would be "one-of-a-kind," an opinion which didn't change course throughout the book.

I think what I liked most about this book was that it made me think; it wasn't a book whose story is splayed in the first five pages, making it totally predictable and boring.  I actually was confused for a few chapters, making me do a little bit of digging for information.  Then, when I went back to re-read (a skill I teach my kiddos at school), I had such an appreciation for the way the story was presented; that Death himself was weaving the story was impressively morbid; but as Zusak says here in an interview, it makes sense for Death to narrate this tale of war and death during World War II and the Holocaust.

The Book Thief is a book of many faces.  When I bought the book, it already had the book cover seen above, but the many covers seen over the past few years bring forth a slew of images from this beautiful novel.

 

Death weaves his tale around a little girl named Liesel, who is sent, along with her brother, to live with a foster family by the last name of Meminger.  She arrives in Munich by train, after experiencing true tragedy on the trip, and though she survives, is a changed little girl.  She finds a connection with her foster father when he discovers that Liesel cannot read.  He becomes her mentor and teacher, giving Liesel a love for books and reading. 

Throughout the course of the book, she meets many characters who propel the story forward, including a verbally abusive foster mother (who is loving in her own way), a mayor's wife, a nosy (and lovable) neighbor boy, and a Jewish man, not to mention countless others.  Death, at various points, interjects to offer tidbits of useful information or his opinion on characters, the town, or the storyline.  We are also privy to story elements far before they actually happen through Death's narrative cut-ins, which makes the story even more unbearably beautiful and heart-breaking at the same time. 

The story is not a simple one, but I would venture a guess that there are very few books that don't have at least one complicated feature.  It is because of these complications, woven together so perfectly, that The Book Thief is so incredibly profound.  It is a true testiment to the fact that beauty can be found in the ugliest or most grief-stricken of times.