The Book Thief

People observe the colors of a day only at its beginnings and ends, but to me it’s quite clear that a day merges through a multitude of shades and intonations with each passing moment. A single hour can consist of thousands of different colors. Waxy yellows, cloud-spot blues. Murky darkness. In my line of work, I make it a point to notice them.

Markus Zusak’s The Book Thief is a poignant tale of childhood in Nazi Germany. Narrated by Death, a very very unusual voice, the story follows Liesel Meminger from being given up for foster care, to starting to love her new family, making new friends, saving a life, and ultimately losing it all during the bombing of Munich during World War II. And it all weaves through the little girl’s curiosity and hunger for books and words. I admit, reading the book made me a little teary-eyed at times. And yet, it is not a constant reminder of the pain of those days, on the contrary it speaks about how there is happiness to be found in the toughest times and from the most meager means. The book is a heartening story of love, friendship, trust and hope. A book I am sure I will remember for a long time.

On a side-note, have you played that listing-favorite-books-and-tagging-friends game that was all the rage a few weeks ago on Facebook?