As soon as I started Markus Zusak’s The Book Thief, I knew it would be something different. It’s narrated by the personification of death, who decides to tell the story of a girl growing up during World War II because simply because it moved him.
Death, as a narrator, is surprisingly gentle. Death simply does what he has to do. He even shows pity and genuine affection for some of the people whose souls he collects. Since it’s World War II, he’s incredibly busy, but there’s something about Liesel Meminger’s story that draws him in and makes him want to share it.
Liesel is almost 10 at the beginning of the novel, when her mother takes her and her sick younger brother to a poor Munich suburb to live with a foster family, the Hubermanns. En route, her brother dies, and during his hasty burial, Liesel steals her first book: The Grave Diggers Handbook. That book is as dull and depressing as it sounds, but Liesel gets her foster father to help her read. Papa reads with her every night, and she soon moves on to stealing whatever books she can find.
Hans, her new Papa, is gentle and plays the accordion; while Rosa, her new Mama, hurls noisy insults at Liesel as her way of showing affection. Though the adjustment is difficult, Liesel becomes a part of the family.
The Hubermanns’ generosity goes beyond taking in Liesel. Later, they agree to hide a 24-year-old Jew named Max, the son of one of Hans’ old friends. Liesel and Max grow close in their time together, exchanging books and drawings. The books help Liesel understand what’s going on around her. Words and books, she realizes, are incredibly powerful, and can be used to good and for evil.
As Liesel gets better at reading and writing (and stealing) she comes into her own, going from a nervous 1o-year-old to a self-confident 14-year-old. She needs that self-confidence, because this is not a cheerful book. As the war goes on, friends and neighbors go off to fight, and bombs start falling on Himmel Street. Liesel is an independent, well-developed and believable character, and it’s an absolute delight to watch her grow up. Despite all the horrors going on around her, there are lots of sweet and sometimes funny moments between her and her family and friends. I was sad when the book ended, not only because, well, the book is sad, but because I liked Liesel and I wanted to keep reading about her.
Zusak’s Australian, with German and Austrian parents, and Liesel’s world is vividly depicted. Zusak generally foregoes long descriptive passages, instead dropping in quirky comparisons like calling Rosa “a wardrobe of a woman.” All these offbeat details add up to make Himmel Street feel real. In the setting and subject matter, though not necessarily in the writing style, The Book Thief is reminiscent of some of Günter Grass’s novels, like Dog Years and Cat and Mouse.
This is a young adult novel, although it was apparently marketed to adults in Australia. Regardless of who its intended audience is, it seems like it would have near-universal appeal. It doesn’t feel at all juvenile, though it’s fairly easy to get through.
Zusak takes a lot of risks—there’s the decision to make Death the narrator, and his tendency to digress from the narrative to share facts and anecdotes. Zusak doesn’t shy away from peppering the book with German words, offering translations and plentiful context clues. It’s clever and original and most importantly, moving.
