Archives for posts with tag: bullying

As I said in the last review, Markus Zusak/Death has basically laid out a blueprint for the closing of this part, so what will be interesting in reading these four is to see how Zusak plays with my expectations and how he fills in the gaps in what I’ve managed to figure out so far.

Some information I admittedly am not supposed to know at this point, such as the fact that Liesel will be stealing from the Mayor’s library, which I read on the back cover. This could be intuited, however, by the fact that every part is named after a book important to it, and this part, titled “the whistler,” opens with the image of a book floating in the river in December 1941. I have most of the events of the final chapter worked out in my head. Viktor Chemmel will steal the book from Liesel and throw it in the river out of revenge, and Rudy will go in to rescue it. Why, however, Liesel and Rudy will be stealing this particular book, and what happens in between these two events, is yet to be discovered.

Before diving into any of that, however, Chapter 5 of Part Five opens with

SKETCHES

As much as I feel more positive about this chapter than I was about the last,
I have to start this review off with a criticism.

If the summer of 1941 was walling up around the likes of Rudy and Liesel, it was writing and painting itself into the life of Max Vandenburg.

I know this is obviously an attempt at another metaphor by Zusak, but I have read this over several times and have no clue what it means. It could mean that the summer is closing in on them and appearing to be more threatening now, but the choice of words is still, frankly, confusing, and that’s as best as I can work it out.

This may not be important, however, because this chapter does return to one of the important themes in the book, the power of words:

In his loneliest moments in the basement, the words started piling up around him. The visions began to pour and fall and occasionally limp from out of his hands.

This time, Zusak puts an emphasis on how those words can be transformed not into visual metaphors that create a picture in your head, but literal sketches. Obviously, we have already seen something similar in The Standover Man, but the two sketches we see differ in that they do not add up to tell a cohesive story necessarily, but rather are an exercise in surrealism and visual imagery. They are so surreal, however, that I’m grateful Zusak does give some insight into Max’s thought process in creating them:

It was a collection of random thoughts and he chose to embrace them. They felt true. They were more real than the letters he wrote to his family and to his friend Walter Kugler, knowing very well that he could never send them. The desecrated pages of Mein Kampf were becoming a series of sketches, page after page, which to him summed up the events that had swapped his former life for another.

While Max is asleep, Liesel comes down and finds the book leaning against him and glimpses 2 of the sketches. The two we see are so strange and disturbing that I am glad Death did explicitly mention that they were representations of Max’s own experiences, because otherwise they appear to simply be exercises in surrealistic black comedy. The second sentence quoted here, however, offers another parallel between Max and Liesel that I am glad Death doesn’t spell out this time. Liesel was able to write letters to her real mother in the hope against hope that she might receive them, while Max writes letters to his family knowing that he can never even send them, as long as the war is ongoing.

But as to the sketches, both occupy a full page and the first one shows an actually fairly detailed pencil sketch of Hitler standing on top of his podium appearing to lead a crowd of onlookers seen only from the back in a Nazi salute, except that a speech buble comes from Hitler’s mouth containing musical notes. The subtitle underneath reads “Not the Führer- the conductor!” The implication here is strange, but appears to be that Hitler used his words like music to entrance the German public, which is what led Max to be persecuted.

The second sketch shows two figures standing atop a large clump of dead bodies with one, a girl, saying “Isn’t it a lovely day…” as they stare up at a sun which flashes both its rays and a swastika at them. This one, despite being yet more surreal, is easier to interpret, as the two figures are likely intended to represent Max and Liesel, who cling to the small pieces of happiness and joy that come their way, despite the fact that they live in Nazi Germany, in the middle of a war that leaves more and more bodies piling up every day.

Liesel, on the other hand, is a bit too young to grasp the intricacies of black comedy, which is why Max never intended to show the sketches to her at this age, and the chapter ends when Liesel hides from an awakening Max the fact that she was reading the book and goes up the stairs thinking:

You scared me, Max.

This probably is not meant just to illustrate Liesel’s lack of understanding of black comedy, though, but rather the fact that at her young age she is unwilling to even admit that they are finding joy in a world filled with great horror or perhaps even to admit that their world has been so overtaken by horrors. The sketch is important, though, in that it represents what Liesel and Max really are doing, and the horrifying reality is that there is actually nothing wrong with that, except for the sad truth that these precious nuggets of happiness will likely grow harder and harder to come by as the war goes on.

THE WHISTLER AND THE SHOES

Death begins this chapter by acknowledging that all the events that have been described in this part form part of a cycle, or routine, and thankfully summarizes it to get to the point where the routine is finally broken:

It’s also worthy of mention that every pattern has at least one small bias, and one day it will tip itself over, or fall from one page to another. In this case, the dominant factor was Rudy.

This is an interesting theory, although in this case it seems clear that the reason Rudy will soon be more important to the narrative is to add more development to his character, since he has been marked to die.

Death again paints a picture of Rudy wandering down Himmel Street filthy,
having been forced to perform extra Hitler Youth drills in a field, this time carrying his shirt which has been covered in not mud this time, but rather…

“The field at Hitler Youth just got fertilized.” He gave his shirt another halfhearted, disgusted appraisal. “It’s cow manure, I think.”
“Did what’s-his-name-Deutscher-know it was there?”
“He says he didn’t. But he was grinning.”

I appreciate that Zusak is trying to show us that Rudy’s exploits at the Hitler Youth will become more important, but for now all this serves is a rather weak motivation for Liesel to get back into book thievery.

After a moment’s thought, he raised his head, just a touch. “Look at me. I’m filthy. I stink like cow shit, or dog shit, whatever your opinion, and as usual, I’m absolutely starving.” He paused. “I need a win, Liesel. Honestly.”
Liesel knew.
She’d have gone closer but for the smell of him.
Stealing.
They had to steal something.

This seems so childish and petty the only thing that comes close to redeeming it, apart from the fact that Liesel and Rudy are children, is the fundamental innocence and weakness of these two characters, especially at this moment in time.

One of my commentators attempted to defend Liesel and Rudy for stealing in the past by arguing that they only committed their crimes out of “a desire to control something” at an age and in a place where they would otherwise have no control. This point in the book seems to illustrate that point well, but even though they hem-and-haw for nearly two pages about where to steal from and what to steal, it’s obvious this is always going to come back to Liesel stealing the book from the Mayor’s wife, despite having rejected it when it was offered to her.

At that very moment, Liesel was presented with a decision. Could she truly carry out what she was thinking? Could she really seek revenge on a person like this? Could she despise someone this much?

I was hoping to get a lot more insight into Liesel’s thought process and her contemplations of whether or not to take the book than what we do get here, but the real problem is that the book treats it like it’s a real defining moment of Liesel’s morality. When really that moral turning point for her already came when she made the decision to castigate and shame the Mayor’s wife. What Liesel’s doing is indeed petty, but it’s not a petty act of revenge or even something hurtful. It’s a petty act of saying “Alright, changed my mind.” Nothing more and nothing less.

There is a brief fake-out where Rudy and Liesel get to the Mayor’s house and find the library’s window has been locked, and it appears Liesel’s plan for revenge will not come to fruition, but no. They steal nothing else, just come back a week later and the window is open. No time is spent on Liesel and Rudy trying to work out other ways to get into the house, and Rudy doesn’t even bring up the possibility of simply stealing somewhere else, even though he’s the one who came up with the idea of stealing something and he has no personal vendetta against the Mayor’s family.

No, the repugnant truth was this:
She didn’t care about the food. Rudy, no matter how hard she tried to resist the idea, was secondary to her plan. It was the book she wanted.
 The Whistler. She wouldn’t tolerate having it given to her by a lonely, pathetic old woman. Stealing it, on the other hand, seemed a little more acceptable. Stealing it, in a sick kind of sense, was like earning it.

I’m trying to understand Liesel’s motivations here, and while incredibly petty, this at least makes some sense. I haven’t stolen much of anything in my life, so I can’t relate to this, but it seems her morality has been warped by the constant stealing for Berg (and now Chemmel)’s gang, as well as the two previous occasions on which she stole a book, which were approved of by Hans, so that now she believes stealing a book is the most pure form of obtaining one. It’s childish, and frankly a bit disgusting, but what really strikes me as abhorrent isn’t Liesel’s desire to steal, or even her selfish motivations that have nothing to do with helping her friend feel better, but the fact that she has such contempt for a woman for being depressed and emotionally scarred by the death of her son, and continues to project her own insecurities onto her. And I’m not sure if Zusak wants us to see it that way, either.

They laughed nervously for a moment before going through the motions of who should go in and who should stand watch. As the male in the operation, Rudy clearly felt that he should be the aggressor, but it was obvious that Liesel knew this place. It was she who was going in. She knew what was on the other side of the window.
She said it. “It has to be me.”

And now I don’t even understand what Rudy has to gain from this. The Hitler Youth plotline provided such a slim motivation for this plotline, but now it feels like there’s nothing. Rudy didn’t mastermind this plan himself, and he’s not even the one breaking in to commit the theft, so how would this be a much-needed “win” for him? He doesn’t even seem to understand why Liesel is angry at the Mayor’s wife or to know about the book she tried giving away, as he still insists she look for food and cigarettes (because in that time period, cigarettes were apparently worth so much they were only valued less than food?) and if Liesel had stolen either of those items, this would be truly petty and despicable, since it would be something the Mayor and his family might actually miss.

There is a brief description of the sense of nostalgia and joy Liesel feels despite herself upon being inside the library again, but this would be more effective if it hadn’t been only 4 months since she was last in there. The narrative then quickly shifts to an attempt at tension, as Liesel can’t find the book on the shelf, and Rudy warns her of footsteps coming from upstairs, but this is resolved in 2 paragraphs as she then sees the book lying on the Mayor’s desk, grabs it, and jumps out the window again.

Once Rudy and Liesel get safely away from the house, Rudy notices the book and realizes what Liesel’s real plan was, but he doesn’t even get the chance to be angry at his friend for tricking him before Liesel notices that he left her shoes at the Mayor’s house, so Rudy runs back to get them. This feels unnecessary except to paint Rudy as an ideal friend and grant him one small victory (albeit only one of correcting his own mistake), but it does admittedly provide us with, in my opinion, the only genuine moment of tension in this chapter:

The minutes were heavy while he was gone.
Darkness was now complete and Liesel was quite certain that a
 Watschen was most likely in the cards when she returned home. “Hurry,” she murmured, but still Rudy didn’t still appear. She imagined the sound of a police siren throwing itself forward and reeling itself in. Collecting itself.
Still, nothing.

It doesn’t last long, as Rudy soon returns with the shoes and tries again to extort a kiss from Liesel, but I really did feel like I was there with Liesel in the dark, experiencing genuine fear and tension about Rudy and whether or not their crime would be discovered. And I do genuinely like the rest of the chapter, now that the conflict has been resolved and it winds itself to a close. Zusak managed for the first time in a while to paint an image of a scene in my mind, and it genuinely feels like we’re seeing two real friends quietly having a conversation with each other. This passage, in particular, is a very nice human detail:

“Speaking of which, I think we’re both slightly in for it when we get home. You especially.”
“Why me?”
“You know-your mama.”
“What about her?” Liesel was exercising the blatant right of every person who’s ever belonged to a family. It’s all very well for such a person to whine and moan and criticize other family members, but they won’t let
 anyone else do it. That’s when you get your back up and show loyalty.

This is so beautifully true it really is a rare instance here of wonderful, human writing, and it doesn’t feel like Zusak, in fact. It feels more like a passage that, if modified, could easily belong to a much different writer like C.S. Lewis.

Zusak also paints a picture of Rudy from Liesel’s 3rd-person POV that describes how he has been growing and changing with age very vividly, reminding me of several of Rowling’s descriptions in The Casual Vacancy. It creates a much stronger portrait of him, in fact, than the literal “Portrait of Rudy Steiner, July 1941” we got earlier, and manages much more to imbue us with the sad realization that he will die before he has the chance to truly age, so that in a way Rudy is close now to being as old as he ever will be.

The chapter ends with Rudy and Liesel returning to their separate houses and reminiscing about the old days of last year when Berg was running their gang, and it really does feel like another precious pocket of humanity like the one we got with Liesel and Hans at the end of “The Gamblers,” and moments like this really are much needed.

As we’re both aware, she’d stolen books previously, but in late October 1941, it became official. That night, Liesel Meminger truly became the book thief.

And yet I can’t help but feel that even if the Mayor’s wife had caught Liesel in the act of stealing her book, she would have simply frowned stoically and allowed (if not encouraged) Liesel to climb back out the window with it. Combining that with the fact that only one of the three stolen books would be missed, I hear Remy’s father in Ratatouille explaining to his son that “It isn’t stealing if no one wants it.” And the voice of another little rat shouting back, “If no one wants it, why are we stealing it?”

THREE ACTS OF STUPIDITY BY RUDY STEINER

What’s strange about this book is how often it can seem like a series of vignettes loosely tied together, and this chapter in particular feels a bit like a short story detailing a few misadventures of Rudy. However, Death’s statement that Rudy was the “dominant factor” in the book’s pattern of events is now proving itself to be true as it becomes clear now this entire part has revolved around Rudy in some way, from the knowledge of his untimely death to his conflicts with Deutscher in the Hitler Youth and Chemmel in the apple-stealing gang, to his endless attempts to extort a kiss out of Liesel, all of which is tied together in these last two chapters.

The chapter begins with Death, as he often does, giving us a blueprint of the chapter to come:

***RUDY STEINER, PURE GENIUS***
1. He stole his biggest potato
from Mamer’s, the local grocer.
2. Taking on Franz Deutscher
on Munich Street.
3. Skipping the Hitler Youth
meetings altogether.

One problem I have with the scene to follow is that there is very little description, and the description we do get is confusing. Death throws us into the scene at Mamer’s with Rudy attempting to steal a potato with no physical description of the store to allow us to picture it. When the owner, Mamer, confronts Rudy over his attempted theft, Zusak writes that Mamer was “still holding Rudy by the collar” despite never stating he was holding him by the collar to begin with, and tells us 2 paragraphs later that he “held Rudy in one hand and the potato in the other,” even though the last we had heard, “the potato was still in Rudy’s hands (he couldn’t hold it in just the one)” and Death never mentions Mamer taking it from him, which creates unseen jumps in time that are awkward and break up the narrative.
As for my thoughts on the section as a whole, there is brief tension as Mamer threatens to call the police on Rudy, but he is then forced to rely on pity to get him out of this situation, as he begs his schoolteacher to tell the grocer how poor he is to guilt-trip Mamer into letting him go. It works, and it’s another small redeeming moment for humanity, but what I found noteworthy is this line:

He was in the percentage of teachers at school who were not priests or nuns.

I felt a bit guilty for being hard on religion when discussing the corporal punishment administered at Liesel’s school, but it seems clear that Zusak, despite keeping this book fairly neutral in terms of belief, as I mentioned earlier, seems to share those feelings of religious distrust. (The only other thing I found worth mentioning here was that Zusak uses the word “ejaculated” to stand in for “exclaimed”, which I didn’t think was possible for a writer to do any more, but Zusak might have chosen to use it due to the book’s period setting.)

And despite Death claiming at the start of the chapter that “the problem with Rudy’s first act was greed,” I think what this whole chapter of the story really illustrates is instead Rudy’s rebellious, impulsive and impetuous nature, and how it gets him into trouble as Rudy tries to secure petty victories to boost his self-esteem, only to inevitably end up digging himself further and further down.

Death sums this misadventure of Rudy Steiner up well:

For Rudy, it was yet another failure.

From there, the narrative moves to Rudy’s second act of stupidity, with Death spoiling for us that he “would finish this particular altercation with a black eye, cracked ribs and a haircut,” which shows his luck will not be improving, obviously, but braces us for what is to come. The incident Death describes first with Rudy in the Hitler Youth seems to further my theory that Rudy’s problems are mostly caused by his rebelliousness, however, when Deutscher asks him the Hitler Youth’s favorite question:

“When was our Führer, Adolf Hitler, born?”
Rudy looked up. “Sorry?”
The question was repeated, and the very stupid Rudy Steiner, who knew all too well that it was April 20, 1889, answered with the birth of Christ. He even threw in Bethlehem as an added piece of information.

What’s worth noting is that Rudy, unlike Liesel, has no personal reason to hate the Nazi regime at this point, so the book isn’t trying to show a 13-year-old as being better than his time, which I appreciate, as it’s clear this act of rebellion is motivated by his disdain for Deutscher, not Hitler himself. Which is further drilled in when we get to Rudy’s actual “second act of stupidity”:

On Munich Street, Rudy noticed Deutscher walking along the footpath with some friends and felt the need to throw a rock at him.

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! FUCKING SERIOUSLY. WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?

But in all honesty, even for an act of stupidity, this act is so shocking and blatantly pointless that Death himself again interrupts to respond to me:

You might well ask just what the hell he was thinking. The answer is, probably nothing at all. He’d probably say that he was exercising his God-given right to stupidity. Either that, or the very sight of Franz Deutscher gave him the urge to destroy himself.

Well, yeah, no shit, Sherlock… but this honestly is one of the few moments it felt like Zusak was deliberately making a character act in a certain way just to create conflict, rather than as something that grew organically out of the narrative. However, given Rudy’s established impulsive and rebellious nature, combined with the fact that he is 13, I’m willing to excuse this, and what’s important is not only does this fail to secure a “win” for Rudy, it also results in his worst humiliation yet. As you could imagine, Deustcher doesn’t take too kindly to this, so he responds by savagely attacking Rudy, throwing him into the pavement three times, giving him the aforementioned black eye and cracked ribs. Unlike the earlier scene where Liesel beats up the two boys, there is nothing fun or gratifying about reading this, and it’s one of the most uncomfortable scenes to read in the whole book, especially if you imagine Deutscher is a few years older than Rudy, yet he still has no problem beating the fucking shit out of him as if he’s even a fair match. There’s even a moment where he pulls a knife on Rudy, and even though we know Rudy will only receive a haircut and he won’t die for another 2 years, it’s still only natural to expect the worst. And Deutscher concludes this humiliation by asking Rudy the question of Hitler’s birthday again:

And Rudy?
How did he reply?
Did he respond prudently, or did he allow his stupidity to sink himself deeper into the mire?
He looked happily into the pale blue eyes of Franz Deutscher and whispered, “Easter Monday.”

This again brings me back to the meditation on cowardice earlier in the book, as this is one of the few stupid acts committed by Rudy that could be considered genuinely brave, as he refuses to allow Deutscher the satisfaction of giving in to him. Deutscher has given Rudy the only position of power he can have, the power to defy him, and Rudy is more than willing to take it, and yet just as Hans only survived WWI due to his aforementioned “cowardice”, one can’t help but feel the sane, sensible reaction in terms of self-preservation would be to simply give Deutscher the complete satisfaction that he wants, but instead Rudy gets a haircut in addition to his humiliation and Zusak makes an annoyingly unnecessary parallel of this haircut, as an act of forced humiliation by an enemy, to the haircut Max received from Liesel earlier in the year, as an act of genuine friendship (unnecessary in that again the audience is more than capable of making this parallel ourselves).

As for Rudy, so far this year he’d swallowed mud, bathed himself in fertilizer, been half-strangled by a developing criminal, and was now receiving something at least nearing the icing on the cake-public humiliation on Munich Street.

Seriously, at first, it may have been shocking that Rudy died so young, but now I can’t help but feel he was lucky to make it this long. Is he really going to survive another TWO YEARS????? Because I have made it my whole life without experiencing any of those things (with the possible exception of public humiliation).

The chapter does, however, manage to leave Rudy on a bit of a positive note, as his third act of stupidity, skipping the Hitler Youth meetings, turns out to be the only one of these acts to exhibit any common sense or leave him in a better position. (“It was the one time in his life that his idiotic behavior delivered beneficial results.”) True, it’s a dangerous thing to do in this time period, but it also ensures he will avoid being in this stressful environment and risk any more hostile interactions with Deutscher. And ultimately, his brother convinces him to join a different division of the Hitler Youth, which teaches aircraft and flying, and the chapter ends with the suggestion that Rudy has experienced some genuine character growth, and in addition to being in a better place, is beginning to mature and accept what he can and cannot get away with:

In his new division, whenever he was asked the famous Führer question, Rudy would smile and answer, “April 20, 1889,” and then to Tommy, he’d whisper a different date, like Beethoven’s birthday, or Mozart’s, or Strauss’s. They’d been learning about composers in school, where despite his obvious stupidity, Rudy excelled.

It helps he doesn’t have a figure like Deutscher to challenge him here, but the last sentence adds a layer of depth in suggesting the difference between book smarts and street smarts, Rudy perhaps possessing more of the former than the latter, something I have to admit I can relate to myself.

THE FLOATING BOOK (Part II)

So now the part ends, right where it began, as you can tell from the title. And I honestly have little to say about this chapter, because everything mostly plays out exactly as I had predicted it would. The opening sentence even mentions that it is December, and Rudy will finally secure a victory, so it’s pretty clear what will happen next.

Liesel and Rudy are going home from school, and there is a small bit of misdirection as they have to avoid Franz Deutscher, but it’s pretty clear there’s not much more he can do to Rudy after having beaten and humiliated him in public already, so this isn’t too convincing, and…

With no further words, Liesel followed him, and they successfully avoided Rudy’s tormentor-straight into the path of another.

They predictably run into Viktor Chemmel and his group on the bridge, and one complaint I have about this is that the action doesn’t feel like it’s playing out naturally. We know everything that is going to happen, and the characters seem to basically act as marionettes, being pulled around by invisible strings and made to do exactly what Zusak wants them to and be exactly where he wants them to be. How likely is it, really, that Viktor and Deutscher would both randomly be wandering around Molching within the same vicinity of each other on the same day, for instance? It’s possible, but it feels contrived.

Viktor greets them by randomly calling Liesel a whore again (big surprise) and taking the book. He offers to sell it back to them for fifty marks, but as Andy Schmeikl points out, they could buy any number of books for that amount (including the same one he took) so this extortion attempt is beyond idiotic. He could also point out that Liesel and Rudy probably don’t have that much money even if they wanted to give it to him, but he doesn’t.

“Did I ask you to speak?”
Andy kept quiet. His mouth seemed to swing shut.

Markus Zusak, have you ever heard this saying before? “If you want respect, you must give respect to get it.” If this whole group is so spineless and cowardly they’re willing to acquiesce to the every demand of this rich prick who gives them no respect, how are they effective thieves who are willing to risk being chased by angry farmers with axes, anyway?

Liesel tried a poker face. “You can keep it, then. I’ve already read it.”
“What happens at the end?”
Damn it!
She hadn’t gotten that far yet.

Well, neither has Viktor, so I’m sure any lie she could come up with would sound convincing, but it doesn’t really matter. For as much as Zusak built up Viktor’s patience in getting back at Rudy, it seems clear he had no plan of exacting revenge against him at all, and spent none of those five months formulating one. He knows Rudy will be pained at seeing his friend intimidated and losing her book because of him, but that doesn’t change the fact that as Rudy points out, this act of revenge isn’t really against him at all, as it’s not his book, so Viktor is basically just impulsively being a prick. It’s not like the group is going to fall into submission after seeing Viktor take action against a person who didn’t question his authority. He’s just pointlessly harassing another member of the group who did nothing against him.

Stranger still is that Zusak never mentions Viktor and his gang leaving after he throws the book into the river, yet Rudy immediately runs down to retrieve it without even waiting for them to go. Inexplicably, Viktor makes no attempt to go after Rudy and stop him from getting it, either. (Also, tearing the book up and throwing the pages in one-by-one would have been more effective, and more of a prolonged punishment, as Rudy would have had to watch his friend’s prized property be destroyed for God knows how long.) He just vanishes from the narrative into a black hole, to wait until the next time it needs him to be a dick.

Another note of interest is that Rudy did not attempt to leave the devastatingly cold water as soon as he held the book in his hand. For a good minute or so, he stayed. He never did explain it to Liesel, but I think she knew very well that the reasons were twofold.

I would think the reason would obviously be to make sure Viktor isn’t hiding somewhere, waiting for the opportunity to ambush him and throw the book back in, but no. Zusak explains the real reason is he wants to revel in his victory and make himself appear pitiful and selfless, so Liesel will kiss him. But obviously she won’t, and Zusak does fittingly leave us on the tragic note he was building to all along:

He stood waist-deep in the water for a few moments longer before climbing out and handing her the book. His pants clung to him, and he did not stop walking. In truth, I think he was afraid. Rudy Steiner was scared of the book thief’s kiss. He must have longed for it so much. He must have loved her so incredibly hard. So hard that he would never ask for her lips again and would go to his grave without them.

That really is a good place to leave the book. I enjoyed this project (especially when I had readers) and I liked reading the book, too, and it’s possible I’ll finish the rest of the book on my own, but we’ve made it halfway through and I think ending on this note of dramatic irony is very fitting. I don’t know how long it will take me to finish the book if I keep dragging the project out, and seeing as how my readers have lost interest, I think it’s clear all good things must come to an end. To the few who enjoyed these posts, I say thank you. I hope you enjoyed revisiting the book as experienced by another person and getting to know my personality through my reviews. I don’t know if I will write any more reviews on here, but I say again, goodbye.

 

 

I’d like to open this post by retracting some things I said in my last review:
I think I was way off base in claiming it was really romantic attraction. At the age of 10, it was probably merely a childhood curiosity, and I feel I demonstrated a poor understanding of child psychology there. But then that isn’t my forte, is it?

Also for some reason I thought Liesel was a Jew. I am such an idiot. Seriously I was considering going back and removing that.

So we will now enter Chapter 5 of Part One:

THE JESSE OWENS INCIDENT

I didn’t mention it in the last post, but this “incident” was actually mentioned in the previous chapter in the “SOME FACTS ABOUT RUDY STEINER” segment:

On Himmel Street, he was considered a little crazy.

This was on account of an event that was rarely spoken about but widely

regarded as “The Jesse Owens Incident,” in which he painted himself

charcoal black and ran the 100 meters at the local playing field one

night.

 

And considering we were also told he was obsessed with Jesse Owens, we already have a pretty good idea of what happened and why.

So obviously we must ask ourselves what purpose Zusak intends in returning to the incident and giving it a full chapter in his book.

The chapter begins promisingly enough:

As we both know, Liesel wasn’t on hand on Himmel Street when Rudy performed his act of childhood infamy. When she looked back, though, it felt like she’d actually been there. In her memory, she had somehow become a member of Rudy’s imaginary audience. Nobody else mentioned it, but Rudy certainly made up for that, so much that when Liesel came to recollect her story, the Jesse Owens incident was as much a part of it as everything she witnessed firsthand.

This is something I can relate to very strongly myself, because I remember the night my brother’s car was broken into and robbed by a drunken man in his late twenties as well as if I were there, even though I only heard my mother tell the story the next day (or the same day, considering it happened early in the morning). But she told it so well it felt like I was there. In fact, I think she was a better storyteller than Zusak. And I’d like to tell you the whole story myself because it’s actually very funny and very interesting, perhaps more so than this chapter. But no, I’m off track already.

So…. Zusak starts it off by giving us some historical perspective:

It was 1936. The Olympics. Hitler’s games.

Jesse Owens had just completed the 4 x 100m relay and won his fourth gold medal. Talk that he was subhuman because he was black and Hitler’s refusal to shake his hand were touted around the world. Even the most racist Germans were amazed with the efforts of Owens, and word of his feat slipped through the cracks.

This helps to explain why Jesse Owens was important and who he was. (Personally, when I hear his name I automatically think of the scene in Blazing Saddles where Cleavon Little says “And now for my next impression…. Jesse Owens” and runs like hell. Sorry, I just had to say that.)

But there isn’t all too much surprising or new about the story until Rudy finishes his race and is “on his victory lap,” as he would have it.

The narrative becomes lost in Rudy’s childhood imagination up to this point, and once his father finds him, it’s easy to see why.

We get a vivid picture of Alex Steiner, Rudy’s father, that shows us that Zusak has a good understanding of the kind of individual that lived in Germany. Sure, these people did support Hitler, but it was more complicated than that and they weren’t just cookie-cutter bad guys.

Remember what I was saying about how times seem so simple when you’re a child but they really aren’t? Well, Zusak really hammers that theme into our heads here.

Rudy obviously is not racist or anti-Semitic. In fact, he can’t understand such a thing. Can’t even begin to fathom what being Jewish means, in fact.

If the book has been lost in childhood whimsy and trivialities, Zusak makes sure we know why as he ends this chapter on a particular dire note:

They walked on in silence for a while, until Rudy said, “I just wish I was like Jesse Owens, papa.”

This time, Mr. Steiner placed his hand on Rudy’s head and explained, “I know, son-but you’ve got beautiful blond hair and big, safe blue eyes. You should be happy with that; is that clear?”

But nothing was clear.

Rudy understood nothing, and that night was the prelude of things to come. Two and a half years later, the Kaufmann Shoe Shop was reduced to broken glass, and all the shoes were flung aboard a truck in their boxes.

Note that “two and a half years later” is at this point very soon to come, if it hasn’t actually happened already. Zusak is sending us a very strong message here: “Enjoy the moments of happiness I give you. It’s all about to go to hell, and you know that and I’m not letting you deny it.”

THE OTHER SIDE OF SANDPAPER

Compounding his cruelty he then proceeds to give us the date: “late May 1939.” Only 3 months left left until the war. Things are normal at the Hubermann household now, but already dire politics are coming into play:

Earlier, there had been a parade.

The brown-shirted extremist members of the NSDAP (otherwise known as the Nazi Party) had marched down Munich Street, their banners worn proudly, their faces held high, as if on sticks. Their voices were full of song, culminating in a roaring rendition of “Deutschland über Alles.” “Germany over Everything.”

As always, they were clapped.

They were spurred on as they walked to who knows where.

People on the street stood and watched, some with straight-armed salutes, others with hands that burned from applause.

We do have one thing to make us feel better, though:

*** SOME CRUNCHED NUMBERS ***

In 1933, 90 percent of Germans showed unflinching

support for Adolf Hitler.

That leaves 10 percent who didn’t.

Hans Hubermann belonged to the 10 percent.

There was a reason for that.

It’s because he is a flawless, wonderful paragon of humanity. Sorry, but I just love him more and more on every page. Seriously, that is not an exaggeration!

And he gets the chance to prove this as Liesel’s nightmares sadly get worse:

When she woke up screaming, Liesel knew immediately that on this occasion, something had changed. A smell leaked out from under the sheets, warm and sickly. At first, she tried convincing herself that nothing had happened, but as Papa came closer and held her, she cried and admitted the fact in his ear.

Liesel’s experience really was a traumatic thing for a 10-year-old girl to go through, so I’m glad the effects are shown to be so severe. Also, bed-wetting is often shown as something funny to laugh at people for in pop culture, so it’s nice to see it portrayed in a sympathetic light.

He teases, however, that something bigger is to come from this:

A black book with silver writing on it came hurtling out and landed on the floor, between the tall man’s feet.

He looked down at it.

He looked at the girl, who timidly shrugged.

Then expertly defuses the tension:

*** A 2 A.M. CONVERSATION ***

“Is this yours?”

“Yes, Papa.”

“Do you want to read it?”

Again, “Yes, Papa.”

A tired smile.

Metallic eyes, melting.

“Well, we’d better read it, then.”

So he changes it from the threat of something bad happening, to something nice as Hans uses the book to teach her to read.

We also have some foreshadowing:

You wouldn’t think it, she wrote, but it was not so much the school who helped me to read. It was Papa. People think he’s not so smart, and it’s true that he doesn’t read too fast, but I would soon learn that words and writing actually saved his life once. Or at least, words and a man who taught him the accordion…

I wonder if Zusak finished the book, then went back and arbitrarily sprinkled hints of what was to come, just to mess with us.

I hope this isn’t foreshadowing, though, at least:

He ran a hand through his sleepy hair and said, “Well, promise me one thing, Liesel. If I die anytime soon, you make sure they bury me right.”

She nodded, with great sincerity.

“No skipping chapter six or step four in chapter nine.” He laughed, as did the bed wetter.

I’m actually the sort of individual strange and morbid enough who tends to like the idea of killing off characters in order to create drama, be more realistic, break rules, and see what the world would be like without them (and also because there’s a Tarantino side to my brain which I try my best to tame). I tend to find people who hate authors for killing their favorite characters stupid and immature. But in this case…….

PLEASE DON’T KILL HANS HUBERMANN, MARKUS. PLEASE DON’T KILL HIM. I WILL DO ANYTHING, ANYTHING. I WILL OFFER YOU MY FIRST-BORN SON, RUMPELSTILTSKIN. I WILL BE YOUR LIFELONG SLAVE. JUST DON’T – KILL – HANS – HUBERMANN.

And in fact, it’s surprising for a book narrated by Death, that the rest of this chapter is so light, funny, warm, and altogether human. Zusak and Death may have their similarities, but Zusak is pretty good at distancing himself ultimately. The fact that the rest of the chapter revolves around Liesel being taught the alphabet is clearly necessary to explain her stealing books and telling her story.

Also, I watched the Masterpiece Theater film “Goodnight Mr. Tom” last night and it’s amazing how many similarities there are between that and this book.

Both are set on the onset of World War II, feature a child having to go live with a stranger, and their foster father finding that they have wet the bed, which they handle in a fairly business-like fashion without embarrassing the child. The child also later in the story loses his sibling and has nightmares.
In particular, passages like this (As they progressed through the alphabet, Liesel’s eyes grew larger. She had done this at school, in the kindergarten class, but this time was better. She was the only one there, and she was not gigantic.)

make me convinced Zusak watched that movie or read the book because there is a scene ridiculously similar to this where Tom is teaching the child the alphabet in the same way Hans is here after the child is, in his own words, “put in with the babies” due to his inability to read.

I realize I have no way of proving Zusak ever saw Goodnight, Mister Tom and it doesn’t really matter in any case. But I just had to say that because there were too many similarities.

I was more surprised that for his “*** A TYPICAL HANS HUBERMANN ARTWORK ***,” he includes an actual drawing that someone would sketch,

rather than his “photos” before. Probably because it’s a crude stick painting, so it wouldn’t be that difficult to visualize it. He does seem to like to challenge himself with his descriptions.

The chapter does close with some beautiful writing:

In the darkness, Liesel kept her eyes open. She was watching the words.

THE SMELL OF FRIENDSHIP

This was a hard chapter to write about. I love it. In fact, when I visited my aunt I read it to her apart from any of the chapters (giving a brief synopsis of what had happened) when I visited her and she said it was very good writing and hoped she could borrow the book from me when I had finished.

And yet there’s not much to say about it.

Liesel keeps having nightmares and Hans keeps being awesome.

Honestly, Zusak is really endearing us to these characters. I feel like they’re people I know and we’re so early in. There’s a fun little battle of wills between Hans and Rosa as she wants Liesel to deliver the ironing with her, so Hans and Liesel deliver it and do their lessons at the same time.1

Then we get some more foreshadowing of Hans’ story:

*** PAPA’S FACE ***

It traveled and wondered,

but it disclosed no answers.

Not yet. 2

There had been a change in him. A slight shift.

She saw it but didn’t realize until later, when all the stories came together. She didn’t see him watching as he played, having no idea that Hans Hubermann’s accordion was a story. In the times ahead, that story would arrive at 33 Himmel Street in the early hours of morning, wearing ruffled shoulders and a shivering jacket. It would carry a suitcase, a book, and two questions. A story. Story after story. Story within story. 3

Zusak is great at making you read on. Honestly, I feel like I’m reading something written by a virtuoso in the art of writing.

In particular, I have to include this, because it’s hilarious:

When the weather was good, they’d go to the Amper in the afternoon. In bad weather, it was the basement. This was mainly on account of Mama. At first, they tried in the kitchen, but there was no way.

“Rosa,” Hans said to her at one point. Quietly, his words cut through one of her sentences. “Could you do me a favor?”

She looked up from the stove. “What?”

“I’m asking you, I’m begging you, could you please shut your mouth for just five minutes?”

You can imagine the reaction.

They ended up in the basement. 4

Liesel is making great progress in her reading lessons and the chapter ends with her thinking about how much she loves Hans in a passage I read in bed right before I fell asleep after a warm candle-lit bath, which is exactly the way it should be read:

“You stink,” Mama would say to Hans. “Like cigarettes and kerosene.”

Sitting in the water, she imagined the smell of it, mapped out on her papa’s clothes. More than anything, it was the smell of friendship, and she could find it on herself, too. Liesel loved that smell. She would sniff her arm and smile as the water cooled around her.

We need to form a Hans Hubermann Appreciation Society. Seriously, this man is THE BEST.

Aaaand that’s it! You see? There’s not much I can say about it. Nothing much happens. It basically serves the purpose of endearing us to the characters and making us care about them more. But like I said before I wish more books would have nice conflict-limited moments like this and that’s the problem: I find myself repeating what I’ve said before the way I did in my Casual Vacancy reviews. Like when I said the book is surprisingly warm. In fact, my aunt was shocked when I told her it was narrated by Death the next day!

Zusak is a master at audience manipulation, I suppose.

THE HEAVYWEIGHT CHAMPION OF THE SCHOOL YARD

Further evidence of this can be seen in the opening of this passage. He allowed us to know it was a few weeks into June 1939 and he had let us savor every bit of peace and pre-war bliss we can have. So with the first sentence of the following chapter he teases us:

The summer of ’39 was in a hurry, or perhaps Liesel was.

And he then proceeds to summarize that yes, Liesel’s life went on as normal and things were going well for her and says “It felt like it was over a few days after it began“. It’s as if he’s saying “Sorry for boring you with all that in the first place,” because he knows readers have been trained to love conflict and misery. The moments when characters are having fun and being happy are the dull parts, the boring parts where we must wait for things to get interesting. So he will oblige, Mr. Zusak, as he pretends not to notice we are begging him to do anything else.

So he cheerfully hurls this at us:

In the latter part of the year, two things happened.

*** SEPTEMBER-NOVEMBER 1939 ***

1. World War Two begins.

2. Liesel Meminger becomes the heavyweight

champion of the school yard.

As we stare, our mouths aghast in horror, without a clue how to react to this (With joy that the conflict is beginning? How can we? And how can we not?), he goes on, letting Death revel in the little details, reminding us humans did plenty of that ourselves, then he concludes with:

To steal a phrase from Hans Hubermann:

The fun begins.

And I’m sitting here leaning back in my chair my mouth gaping in horror, emotionally drained in less than a page and a half.

And there are FOUR HUNDRED AND FIFTY SIX PAGES left, and I’m not sure I want to read them!*

As I read on, Zusak builds up the tension to an agonizing extreme and turns us into sadists:

By the time he made it home and removed it, his sweat had drawn the ink onto his skin. The paper landed on the table, but the news was stapled to his chest. A tattoo. Holding the shirt open, he looked down in the unsure kitchen light.

“What does it say?” Liesel asked him. She was looking back and forth, from the black outlines on his skin to the paper.

I feel like my heart is about to lunge out of my chest.

“Hitler takes Poland,” he answered, and Hans Hubermann slumped into a chair. “Deutschland über Alles,” he whispered, and his voice was not remotely patriotic.

I’m sorry, I-I just can’t stop myself from crying. This is perfect.

That was one war started.

Liesel would soon be in another.

WHAT?

WHAT ON EARTH DOES THAT MEAN?

Nearly a month after school resumed, she was moved up to her rightful year level. 

XD

You might think this was due to her improved reading, but it wasn’t. 

😦

Despite the advancement, she still read with great difficulty. Sentences were strewn everywhere. Words fooled her. The reason she was elevated had more to do with the fact that she became disruptive in the younger class. She answered questions directed to other children and called out. A few times, she was given what was known as a Watschen (pronounced “varchen”) in the corridor. 

***  A DEFINITION ***

Watschen = a good hiding

What? No! This – is – not – FAIR.

She was taken up, put in a chair at the side, and told to keep her mouth shut by the teacher, who also happened to be a nun. At the other end of the classroom, Rudy looked across and waved. Liesel waved back and tried not to smile.
…..
She thought it was enough. It was not enough.

I hate you, Markus Zusak. I HATE YOU.

A halo surrounded the grim reaper nun, Sister Maria. (By the way – I like this human idea of the grim reaper. I like the scythe. It amuses me.)

This book is the most bizarre and horrible thing ever written. And I love it.

Throughout the test, Liesel sat with a mixture of hot anticipation and excruciating fear. She wanted desperately to measure herself, to find out once and for all how her learning was advancing. Was she up to it? Could she even come close to Rudy and the rest of them? 

Edge of my seat here.

Each time Sister Maria looked at her list, a string of nerves tightened in Liesel’s ribs. It started in her stomach but had worked its way up. Soon, it would be around her neck, thick as rope. 

GODDAMN IT! Stop doing this to me, Zusak who is Death!

“Very good.” Sister Maria nodded, perusing the list. “That’s everyone.” 

Phew.

What?
“No!” 

??????????????????????????????????????????????????????????!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

A voice practically appeared on the other side of the room. Attached to it was a lemon-haired boy whose bony knees knocked in his pants under the desk. He stretched his hand up and said, “Sister Maria, I think you forgot Liesel.” 

What?
No!

Sister Maria.
Was not impressed. 

<jaw drops> <falls out of chair>

The teacher looked across, for confirmation. “She will read for me later.”
The girl cleared her throat and spoke with quiet defiance. “I can do it now, Sister.” 

And thus begins the greatest exercise in tension ever!

When she looked up again, the room was pulled apart, then squashed back together. All the kids were mashed, right before her eyes, and in a moment of brilliance, she imagined herself reading the entire page in faultless, fluency-filled triumph.

I’m right there with you, Liesel. Seriously, I’m in a daze. Is this book real?

*** A KEY WORD ***

Imagined

FUCK YOU,

MARKUS

ZUSAK.

FUCK YOU

100,000,000

TIMES!

Breathing, breathing, she started to read, but not from the book in front of her. It was something from The Grave Digger’s Handbook. Chapter three: “In the Event of Snow.” She’d memorized it from her papa’s voice.

“In the event of snow,” she spoke, “you must make sure you use a good shovel. You must dig deep; you cannot be lazy. You cannot cut corners.”

Oh my God, this is amazing.

It ended.

The book was snatched from her grasp and she was told.

“Liesel-the corridor.”

As she was given a small Watschen, she could hear them all laughing in the classroom, between Sister Maria’s striking hand. She saw them. All those mashed children. Grinning and laughing. Bathed in sunshine. Everyone laughing but Rudy.

This book should be used as an instrument of torture. I can’t stand this any longer.

In the break, she was taunted. A boy named Ludwig Schmeikl came up to her with a book. “Hey, Liesel,” he said to her, “I’m having trouble with this word. Could you read it for me?” He laughed- a ten-year-old, smugness laughter.

“You Dummkopf-you idiot.”

GODDAMN IT, YOU SHUT THE FUCK UP RIGHT NOW YOU STUPID FUCKING GODDAMN SHITHEAD IDIOT LOATHSOME ABOMINABLE WASTE OF SPACE PIECE OF SHIT BOY!

Nearing the end of the break, the tally of comments stood up at nineteen. By the twentieth, she snapped. It was Schmeikl, back for more. “Come on, Liesel.” He stuck the book under her nose. “Help me out, will you?”

FUCK YOU FUCK YOU you fuckin motherfucker fuck you TO THE POWER OF ONE HUNDRED!!!

Liesel helped him out, all right.

 

 

 

OH HOLY SHIT FUCK YEAH!!!!!

She stood up and took the book from him, and as he smiled over his shoulder at some other kids, she threw it away and kicked him as hard as she could in the vicinity of the groin.

<GRINS> OH YEAAAAH.


Well, as you might imagine, Ludwig Schmeikl certainly buckled, and on the way down, he was punched in the ear. When he landed, he was set upon. When he was set upon, he was slapped and clawed and obliterated by a girl who was utterly consumed with rage. 


FUCK YEAH! MOTHERFUCKER YOU ARE BEING OOOOWNED! <FIST BUMP DE AIR>

His skin was so warm and soft. Her knuckles and fingernails were so frighteningly tough, despite their smallness. “You Saukerl.” Her voice, too, was able to scratch him. “You Arschloch. Can you spell Arschloch for me?”

can you feel the burn can you can you cause you see Liesel Meminger SHE FUCKIN AWWWESOME………

“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph,” a girl commentated with a shriek, “she’s going to kill him!”
Liesel did not kill him.
But she came close.
In fact, probably the only thing that stopped her was the twitchingly ugly, pathetic face of Tommy Müller. Still crowded with adrenaline, Liesel caught sight of him smiling with such absurdity that she dragged him down and started beating
 him up as well.

hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha


“What are you doing?!” he wailed


 

HA HA HA LIESEL MEMINGER IS GIVIN’ YOU THE NO HOLDS BARRED BEATING OF A LIFETIME, BOYS! OH YEAAAAAAAH!

On her knees, she sucked in the air and listened to the groans beneath her. She watched the whirlpool of faces, left and right, and she announced, “I’m not stupid.”
No one argued.

………………………….. (mouth open) …………………………………………………………

Ladies and gentlemen, please give us a great big round of applause for the heavy-weight champion of November 1939 and the world’s biggest female badass since Mary Lennox stood up to Colin Craven way back in 1911, Miss Liesel Meminger! YOU RULE! YOU FUCKING RUUUULE GIRLFRIEND. DOO DOO DOO DOO DOO DOO WHOO-HOO. WHOO-HOO.

CLAP

CLAP

CLAP

CLAP

CLAP

CLAP

CLAP

CLAP

CLAP

CLAP

CLAP

CLAP

CLAP

CLAP

CLAP

CLAP

CLAP

CLAAA……

“The corridor,” she stated for the second time that day. For the second time that hour, actually.
This time, it was not a small 
Watschen. It was not an average one. This time, it was the mother of all corridor Watschens, one sting of the stick after another, so that Liesel would barely be able to sit down for a week.

I did know this was coming. I just didn’t want to admit it. Because this is what does happen, sadly to say. On my last post, I received the following explanation for a passage I did not understand as “in the larger scheme, we all are doing what we are told to do.” I certainly did understand how that theme is shown here due largely to my own life. There are clear parallels between Liesel and the nun, who are each telling someone what to do and the frustrating beyond aggravating thing that I have pondered for years is that unopposed Sister Maria can assert the same force of justice and she can’t. If Liesel deserved a beating, why didn’t those two boys? But if there’s no higher power to stop you you can do whatever you want and this is likely to form the main conflict of the entire book since this is what kept Hitler in power until 1945.

And there was no laughter from the room. More the silent fear of listening in.

So I’m glad Zusak gives us that. Because it’s true. They knew she knew the consequences and maybe if she’s gotten the worst she has nothing more to lose. So she’ll just let herself have it again and again. So you’d better leave her alone.

Not….
“Sitting in a car with you is like sitting in a car with Lord Voldemort.”
“I think we might tell Mom you said that.”

<awkward shuffling> repeat repeat >AWKWARD SHUFFLING>

The chapter ends solemnly as Liesel and Rudy walk home.

Nearing Himmel Street, in a hurry of thoughts, a culmination of misery swept over her – the failed recital of The Grave Digger’s Handbook, the demolition of her family, her nightmares, the humiliation of the day – and she crouched in the gutter and wept. It all led here.

Things were going well for her. I thought Zusak was being so kind in giving her a nice family she could be happy with instead of the cruel one I had expected, a friend, reading lessons. But no, we couldn’t have that. He really does know how to depict human feelings, doesn’t he? Perfectly.

When finally she finished and stood herself up, he put his arm around her, best-buddy style, and they walked on. There was no request for a kiss. Nothing like that. You can love Rudy for that, if you like.

Oh, I do. I apologize for everything I said to you earlier, Rudy.

And I just want to fall to my knees and weep, too, because I just humiliated myself over the entire Internet and you can’t even begin to know why. My sisters bullied me constantly growing up. They would just sit in the kitchen making fun of me for no reason – I lost it one time, beat them, went on a rampage tearing the house apart – then they ran upstairs and I just sat down on the floor and waited. Then she came down without a word, just that glare of absolute fury on her face as she walked past the wreckage I had strewn in her house.

She grabbed me by the hair and she took me upstairs.

I told her one time – I told her “I can’t take it.” She told me “You better”.

I was smacked over the head with a shoe one time. I went right upstairs to her room. “What did you do to them?”

Why can’t life be fair? Maybe it was for me, when she told me I could stop coming over because of them. But I’m not sure she meant it, because she kept on saying it just to make me quit whining. Even though I wasn’t whining. She took my property away from me, made her stupid ignorant assumptions – “You wanted to give this mean note they wrote to you to your dad so he’d believe you?” Why couldn’t she tell them off? Why did she have to patronize me? Why was it always me? Fuck her. Fuck life. I just got through reading The Secret Garden. Why can’t crazy, happy, ridiculous endings like that happen in real life?

And I thought it would be worse. I thought the last page would be Hans and Rosa talking to Liesel about it, and then I read it and I still thought that. I literally forgot I had finished the chapter. I don’t know what this book has done to me and I’ve barely even started.

Guys, this is my book. All right? Mine. You may have read it first, but this is mine. You can’t have it.

For now, Rudy and Liesel made their way onto Himmel Street in the rain.
He was the crazy one who had painted himself black and defeated the world.
She was the book thief without the words.
Trust me, though, the words were on their way, and when they arrived, Liesel would hold them in her hands like the clouds, and she would wring them out like the rain.

This book is one of the best I have ever read and I hate it so much. It has become undeniably clear that Markus Zusak is the greatest literary sadist of all time. I mean, MY GOD, what kind of demented evil human being enjoys torturing their own characters this much? And we’re not even a hundred pages in yet! 9 parts left plus an epilogue and frankly I’m not sure I feel I can continue.


 

Aunt’s reaction to The Book Thief: Chapter 11

  1. After I read the first section, “Well, these do seem like interesting people to spend time with.”
    “Saumensch dreckiges, you never hear anything!” She laughed. “She has hearing problems, too.”
    After the second section, I explained, “That’s their strange way of bonding.” She said, “Oh, she enjoys doing that task for him.”
  2. I explained “The author has a lot of little quirks like this.”
    She said, “Oh, like stage directions.”
  3. I also stopped to explain that he likes to do foreshadowing like this. She said nothing.
  4. She laughed, “Oh, dear!”
    She laughed at the grave book line, and I explained a bit about that history to her.
    She stopped at “Papa dispensed with the sandpaper” to ask if they were using sandpaper for the purpose they were. I said yes, and read on. I explained he was a house painter.
    And you already know her conclusion.
    “Well, that was very nice writing. I think I might have to rent that from you at some point.”