Ever read a book narrated by Death? I have, sort of, only Death didn’t know he was Death. He accidentally walked into the job, but that’s another story. But this is a book narrated about Death proper, and he’ll have plenty to talk about because it’s set in Germany, on the eve of the Second World War. A young girl has just witnessed her brother unexpectedly die as her impoverished mother is surrendering her to foster care, and is forced to grow accustomed to life in a new family & place. The place is Himmel Street, a poor neighborhood in a suburb of Munich, and despite the persistent threat of poverty, Liesel will indeed find friendship and meaning — though, in her case the latter takes the form of a habit of book stealing. The Book Thief is an unusual and compelling story of friendship and the transformative potential of literature and words, set amid the outbreak of World War 2 and the beginnings of the Holocaust/Shoah.

The Book Thief has a curious structure, with frequent asides from the narrator — comments, art, definitions — and lots of overt spoiling of future events, mostly people dying. Of course, given the narrator and setting, it’s easy to assume some of the main characters will die, but we don’t know who. Even with that hanging ominously in the corner of the mind’s eye, the story is compelling and lovely: Liesel’s foster parents are two very different people, and love her in different ways (Papa is much easier to like than his wife), and they both display moral courage as Hitler’s hateful policies become visible on the streets of their city. Liesel’s friendship with a neighbor, young Rudy, is also fun: he dreams of being as fast as Jesse Owens and flirt-fights constantly with her. A key part of the novel is the family offering shelter to a young man whose father served with Papa in the Great War: Max is Jewish, and needs to hide from the state. Although this puts everyone at risk, Papa’s debt to his late comrade, as well as his immutable decency, make this hiding a moral necessity. Max and Liesel bond over books, and it is that love which saves Liesel in the end when carpet-bombing finds her town.

This is a story both sad and sweet: unforgettable, to say the least.

Highlights:

Clearly,” said Arthur, “you’re an idiot—but you’re our kind of idiot. Come on.” They were in.

“When death captures me,” the boy vowed, “he will feel my fist on his face.”

“I am stupid,” Hans Hubermann told his foster daughter. “And kind. Which makes the biggest idiot in the world.”

His soul sat up. It met me. Those kinds of souls always do—the best ones. The ones who rise up and say, “I know who you are and I am ready. Not that I want to go, of course, but I will come.” Those souls are always light because more of them have been put out. More of them have already found their way to other places. This one was sent out by the breath of an accordion, the odd taste of champagne in summer, and the art of promise-keeping.

I am haunted by humans.

Related:
The Hiding Place, Corrie ten Boom
Bomber, Len Deighton. A novel about a bombing run over a fiction village in Germany. Lauded for its technical accuracy.