One of the things I cannot stand is mandatory reading, which is why I was originally apathetic towards The Book Thief by Markus Zusak.
It was all part of my English teacher’s ‘brilliant idea’ to start a lunchtime book club which was compulsory for all A Level English students. The Book Thief was the first book we were given to read.
The story is set in Nazi Germany and tells the tale of young Liesel, an inquisitive but initially illiterate girl who, after being sent to live with Hans Hubermann and his wife Rosa, slowly discovers the joys of reading. In a society where Hitler’s totalitarianism eventually leads to book burnings, she goes to great lengths to obtain the knowledge she seeks.
Now, The Book Thief is not just some story about a young girl’s desire to read, Zusak’s narrative is underpinned with commentary on humanity. He achieves this by presenting the narrative though the eyes of Death. Yes, Death himself.
Death is brought to life in an era where he thrived. His wit and empathy create a poignant character, who muses about our greatest qualities and deepest flaws as humans. As we traverse time and Liesel’s world changes, her family faces increasing danger from the society they live in.
Relationships flourish and grow; but Death’s omnipresent voice reminds you that he is never far away. Despite being personally dubious of fiction set during history, I found this novel captivating from start to end.
This book kept me on the verge of insomnia with each turn of the page taking you one step closer to triumph or heartache. Indeed, there were more tears than I’d care to admit to. Granted, the first chapter feels slow, but persevere because the challenging subject matter is definitely worth the stolen hours of sleep.