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A review by hthuwal
The Book Thief by Markus Zusak
challenging
dark
emotional
reflective
sad
tense
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? A mix
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? No
5.0
A beautiful YA historical fiction set up in world war two and narrated by Death. ‘Death has no time for mysteries’. At the beginning of each part, death will mention or at the very least foreshadow how it’s all gonna turn out. So, it’s not a book you read compulsively and hurriedly to figure out how it all turns out. It’s a book that you read to savor every word and absorb it. It’s a visceral, emotional, heart-wrenching, evocative, and immersive journey to the end that you’re already partially aware of.
Death’s snarky comments, bewilderment when trying to understand human behaviour, and attempts to be uninterested yet drawn to the protagonist’s story make it an engrossing read. To top it all off, Death is self-aware. ‘It kills me sometimes, how people die.’
The book is about the complexities of human behaviour: ‘So much good, so much evil. Just add water’. The book is about grief, suffering, and the clumsiness of sorrow. The book is about survival. Survival as the oppressed, survival as the odd one out amongst oppressors, and survival as one struggles between who they are and who everyone thinks they ought to be. The book is about love. Love for parents, friends, siblings, and partner. The love expressed and the love left unsaid. The book is about books, words, and stories. How words can cause destruction and can help one survive the said destruction. How words can be an act of rebellion. There are books within books, books being written as the story progresses.
I loved that books played a pivotal role in the story. They shaped what happened and they shaped characters. It reminded me of what Mary Oliver wrote: “I read the way a person might swim, to save his or her life. I wrote that way too.”
Death’s snarky comments, bewilderment when trying to understand human behaviour, and attempts to be uninterested yet drawn to the protagonist’s story make it an engrossing read. To top it all off, Death is self-aware. ‘It kills me sometimes, how people die.’
The book is about the complexities of human behaviour: ‘So much good, so much evil. Just add water’. The book is about grief, suffering, and the clumsiness of sorrow. The book is about survival. Survival as the oppressed, survival as the odd one out amongst oppressors, and survival as one struggles between who they are and who everyone thinks they ought to be. The book is about love. Love for parents, friends, siblings, and partner. The love expressed and the love left unsaid. The book is about books, words, and stories. How words can cause destruction and can help one survive the said destruction. How words can be an act of rebellion. There are books within books, books being written as the story progresses.
I loved that books played a pivotal role in the story. They shaped what happened and they shaped characters. It reminded me of what Mary Oliver wrote: “I read the way a person might swim, to save his or her life. I wrote that way too.”