Tuesday, February 17, 2009

The Book Thief, by Markus Zusak: death speaks

Having once been something of a book thief myself during a period of my misguided youth, I was initially attracted to this book by the title. When I learned that it was actually a story about a young German girl who (sort of) stole books during the Third Reich, and that it was narrated by Death, I picked it up without hesitation. Honestly, how can you go wrong with a premise like that? Even if it wasn’t stellar, it was bound at the very least to be interesting. And it was, exceedingly so. The Book Thief was quite unlike any book I’ve ever read before, and although it frustrated me greatly on occasion, it also pleased me immensely and it did make me cry.

After introducing himself rather heavy-handedly (more on this below), Death begins to tell the story of a young girl named Liesel Meminger. A young German girl, the soon-to-be-orphaned Liesel is given over to the foster care of a house painter and his wife in a small town called Molching. The year is 1939. Over the course of the next four years, Leisel grows up in an increasingly deteriorating German society, facing hardship and tragedy, but also finding love and kindness in some really touching ways. Insignificant thought the small girl may seem amidst the terrors of war that slowly encroach on her tiny town, she nevertheless finds little ways to fight back. Throughout the course of the book, she sustains and supports not only herself but also those around her with the written word.

The Book Thief provides a fascinating perspective on the experiences of small town German citizens during the Second World War. Zusak’s own mother grew up in a town similar to Molching, and his father was an Austrian house painter. He has claimed to base much of The Book Thief on their stories and recollections. The cast of characters of this book was very believable, featuring both the best and the worst of humanity. Similarly, Liesel’s love for books (which will naturally appeal to any reader) and the power they hold for her, is nicely contrasted with the power of the Nazi propaganda and ideology over the German people. It is suggested in the novel, or rather it is directly spelled out for the readers, that words are tremendously powerful, whether for good or evil purposes. The duality of the written word, and the duality of human nature, is one of the central themes of The Book Thief.

What makes this book particularly strange is the weird narrative style of which Death seems to be so fond. He sounds almost as if English isn’t his first language (although, logically speaking, why would it be?); he’s got a great vocabulary but the structure and grammatical conventions don’t seem to come naturally to him. I suppose, not being human, he doesn’t feel bound to such restrictions if they don’t fit his purposes. But still, it can get kind of frustrating for a human reader when he puts things out of chronological order or expresses himself unnaturally. I enjoyed him more when he was actually telling Liesel’s story than when he was going on and on about himself. Yet for all the phrases of his I particularly disliked (like when he said the only thing “visible” to Liesel was her father’s voice), there was an equal number that I really did like (e.g. “You will be caked in your own body” when he comes for you.) Lots of Deathisms like that. Definitely interesting.

Quite frequently he (Death) interrupts himself in the telling of the story to interject some little observation or remark that reminds us exactly who is talking and what that means. An example:


They say that war is death’s best friend, but I must offer you a different point of view on that one. To me, war is like the new boss who expects the impossible. He stands over your shoulder repeating one thing, incessantly: “Get it done, get it done.” So you work harder. So get the job done. The boss, however, does not thank you. He asks for more.

And:


Many jocular comments followed, as did another onslaught of “heil Hitlering.” You know, it actually makes me wonder if anyone ever lost an eye or injured a hand or wrist with all of that. You’d only need to be facing the wrong way at the wrong time or stand marginally too close to another person. Perhaps people did get injured. Personally, I can only tell you that no one died from it, or at least, not physically. There was, of course, the matter of forty million people I picked up by the time the whole thing was finished, but that’s getting all metaphoric.

And lastly:

It was a year for the ages, like 79, like 1346, to name just a few. Forget the scythe, Goddamn it, I needed a broom or a mop. And I needed a vacation.

Like I said, not quite like anything I’ve read before. I didn’t like the way Zusak would sometimes hit you over the head with his point to make sure you got it, but all in all The Book Thief was moving and thought-provoking.

1 comment:

  1. To me it sounds as if you haven't really succumbed to the book. You talk about Death's structure to be confusing and frustrating due to the lack of chronological order and his bizarre expressions, yet the lack of chronological order tells us nothing and doesn't lose the main contention of the story. Death says himself/herself, that he isn't interested in stories, so obviously the book is about delivering the message primarily, then the story. 'Deathisms' (<<clever :] ) as you call it don't seem to appetize you however this is a mere abomination of the point of view (i.e. 1st person, 2nd person, 3rd person) that we are used to. We learn to appresicate his unique POV because of the enrichment he provides to the book. Lastly, you can relate to the book, due to your childhood, whilst others couldn't relate at all, like me, so you should feel much more at peace whilst reading the book. Try reading it again and don't aim to understand the story, but aim to understand the message, the storyline will come to you after...

    Thanks for the review anyway it helped me in my English essay :)

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